


Ugliness

by MrBarnesIfYaNasty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cutting, Drug Abuse, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, alexander pierce is a douchebag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBarnesIfYaNasty/pseuds/MrBarnesIfYaNasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Highschool AU - Bucky suffers a horrible injustice at the hands of his teacher Alexander Pierce. Will he ever be able to find his voice and reach out to his best friend? (Please heed the warnings at the beginning of the chapters! Potential Triggers within)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ugliness Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my first ever Captain America/Marvel fanfiction! As a warning, this story features rape. The act itself is not graphic nor is it really described but it forms the basis of the story. There will also be mentions of self harm. I will update the tags as I post new chapters. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!

Ugliness – Chapter One

 

“Did I ever tell you how much sports fucking suck?” Bucky moaned as he pulled off his gym t-shirt. Steve, fully dressed and sitting to his right with his nose in a book simply nodded. He'd been excused another gym class because of his asthma and had spent the class sitting on the sidelines studying.   
“It's the one time I'm glad of my asthma.” He eventually replied, closing his text book with a snap. Bucky stripped off his shorts and grinned. 

“Gotta take the good with the bad huh buddy?” He teased. 

“Are you comin' round to mine tonight?” Steve stood up and slung his book bag over his shoulder. “Mom's makin' hamburgers.” 

“Can't” Bucky shook his head and wrapped a towel around his waist. “Gonna grab a shower here then I gotta head back and get started on that damn English assignment” He pulled a face. “It's due tomorrow”   
Steve nodded again. He'd completed the assignment last week and had listened to Bucky's endless 'I'll get round to it tomorrow Stevie' promises ever since. Bucky raised and eyebrow at his friend.  
“I didn't even ask.” 

“You didn't hafta” Steve smirked. “You know the answer would be no anyway. Mr Stan can spot it a mile off when you've copied my work.” He checked his watch. “Hey do you mind if I get goin'? I promised Peggy that I'd meet her outside the library and you know what she gets like when I'm late” 

“Sure, get goin'” Bucky nodded towards the door. “I'll catch ya later” 

Steve left the changing rooms. Bucky cursed mentally, suddenly remembering that he'd meant to ask his best friend something. He yanked the changing room door open and spotted Steve already halfway down the corridor.   
“Stevie!” Bucky yelled, not really wanting to walk down the corridor in just a towel. “Don't forget to email me that stuff tonight!” 

“Don't shout in the corridor” Said a sudden voice from behind him. Bucky turned to see their gym teacher, Mr Pierce, standing by the row of coat hooks looking stern. Pierce had only been teaching for a few months but he was already the most unpopular teacher amongst the students. Even those he didn't teach had heard of him. He cut an imposing figure as it was in his starch white gym clothes but became even more intimidating when he dressed in sharp business suits to teach his other subject, Business Studies.   
“Sorry Sir.” Bucky replied, feeling a little embarrassed at the fact he was standing in front of the fiercest teacher in the school in little more than a towel.   
“I think a little chat is in order” Pierce said, beckoning Bucky back into the changing rooms with a curl of his finger. If sharks could talk, Bucky thought, they'd probably sound exactly like Alexander Pierce right before they savaged their prey. The changing room door slammed behind him and Bucky became all too aware that all the other students had left and that only he and Pierce remained in the room.   
“You don't appear to respect authority much do you?” Pierce mused as he got to his feet. Even the man's gym shoes were pristinely white. “What's your name?”

“Bucky Barnes Sir” Bucky replied, suddenly feeling nervous. What was it with this guy? He exuded some sort of 'leave me the hell alone' creepiness that would usually have him running a mile.   
“I asked for you name Barnes. Not a diminutive.” Pierce said pompously.   
As much as he hated English class, Bucky was no idiot. He knew what the teacher was getting at.   
“James Sir.” 

“It would seem that you don't like me very much James Barnes.” Pierce moved a little closer, closing in the space between them.   
“Um...well...I guess I don't know you very well Sir. You only take me for gym class.” Bucky answered, wondering what the hell this guy was getting at. He'd never had a 'little chat' with a teacher like this before. Usually they just told you to straighten up and fly right, wanted an apology and then you were off on your merry way.   
“Turn around James.” Pierce asked. Bucky was reminded of the shark again, the shark who had just caught the smell of a drop of blood. 

“Sir?” Bucky's heart was beginning to pound in his chest. Was this guy going to hit him? He'd heard tales from his father about corporal punishment in schools but surely that kind of thing was totally illegal now? He briefly wondered how much trouble he would get in if he were to fight back should he be hit .   
“It would be prudent to do as you are asked James.” Pierce said smoothly. 

So Bucky did, feeling nausea bubble up in his stomach. Nothing about this situation was feeling right. He wanted to run or shout for help but he was rooted to the spot, silenced by the fear that was over-taking him at an alarming rate.   
“You're so different to the other students James. You're special.” Bucky could feel breath on the back of his neck. “They are uncouth animals whilst you...you always smell so clean...now, remove your towel” 

“N-no.” Bucky forced the word out. What the hell was happening? His panicked brain started to shut down, refusing to help him figure a way out of this situation. His eyes fixed on the slightly grimy brown floor tiles. He was suddenly pulled forward and pushed towards the small shower area. His hip collided with the little tiled wall that separated the shower area from the coat hooks. His towel seemed to disappear from around his waist, exposing him to the sudden cold of the changing room. He wanted to fight but his body, his brain, was frozen like a startled fawn. A hand wrapped around his mouth, fingers digging into his cheek bone painfully as they squeezed.   
“The other students are gone James. We're here all alone. Nobody to hear us.” 

He was forced to his hands and knees. The tiles felt cool and wet beneath his palms. His head “Just you and me James.” 

~*~

He didn't know how much time had passed. He'd lost all concept of it. How long had he been knelt here, in the shower area, un-moving? Pierce was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea when the man had gone. Perhaps it was hours ago. Perhaps it was minutes. 

Bucky realised he was shivering. He was still completely naked. His mind refused to co-operate and piece together exactly what had happened. He started to move, pain jolted through his body and he was aware of something wet around his knees. He looked down to see the familiar brown tiles spotted with blood. Every little movement he made invited pain in fresh waves but he had to ignore it. He needed to move. He needed to clean up. Remove the evidence. Get out. If he did that then perhaps he could clean the entire afternoon from his mind. Perhaps it would wipe away as easily as the tiles would. 

So he started the shower and watched as the water washed the tiles clean. It splashed his naked body but it didn't feel right. Nothing did. Everything was numb, dull, his movements and his mind mechanical processes. Once the evidence was removed, he moved back to the coat hooks and began to dress. He felt almost as though he was in a trance, a dream-like state that he could possibly awaken from. He hoped that he would wake up soon. A dazed glance at the clock told him that a whole two hours had passed since Steve had disappeared to meet Peggy. 

Steve had left him. 

He knew what he had to do. He had to pretend that those two hours hadn't existed. That it was a part of his life that had simply been forgotten like a regular day. He stepped out of the changing rooms and began to make his way home. All the familiar sights on his journey seemed differently somehow. Twisted. Nightmarish. 

He felt so alone. 

~*~

His dad wasn't there when Bucky arrived home. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. Ever since Bucky's mother had died five years ago, George Barnes worked harder than ever. Longer hours at the office to the point that sometimes Bucky felt he'd lost both of his parents. He dropped his school bag by the front door and made a beeline for the bathroom. That would be his first shower of the night. Four more showers followed that one. Blood was found in his underpants so they were tucked away at the bottom of his closet where he knew his father would never find them. He clambered into his bed hoping that any further bleeding wouldn't be evident on his dark sheets and that sleep would overwhelm him. 

Time escaped him again but it was dark by the time he heard the front door open and the sounds of his father taking off his shoes and putting his keys onto the telephone table in the hall like he always did. There was movement outside his bedroom door. Then it opened.  
“Bucky?”   
Bucky wished he was asleep. Wished he didn't have to do this now or ever. But he'd been awake the whole time, his eyes blank and glazed as he'd stared up at his ceiling.   
“You're in bed early son.” his father remarked. “Are you feeling ok?” 

“No.” Bucky replied before he could stop himself. 

“Where does it hurt?” George approached the bed and Bucky quickly turned around, not wanting his back to be exposed, even to someone so familiar.   
“Everywhere.” Bucky answered quietly. A hand came down on his forehead, gentle and loving. His father let out a hum.   
“You do feel a little warm son...” His hand moved upwards. “Your hair's wet! You shouldn't go to bed with wet hair, it's not good.” He sighed and grabbed a nearby towel from the carpet. “Come on, get up and give it a quick dry. Do you need any painkillers?” 

“No.” Bucky couldn't summon the power to argue with his father as he pulled back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. A jolt of pain hit as he sat up but he managed to mask it quickly, taking the towel from his father and beginning to scrub at his hair. When he was done, he dropped the towel on the carpet and laid down. His father pulled the sheets back over him, pretty much tucking him in.   
“You seem quiet, do you want me to stay with you?”   
Bucky wanted nothing more in the world but he couldn't seem to vocalise it. He knew it would hurt tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. Always. This wasn't some cold he was going to get over. This would be with him forever. He felt like he was drowning.   
“Well then I'll leave you to sleep” George moved away from the bed and turned off the light. He paused at the door. “Give me a shout if you need anything. Night son.”   
Later that night, long after he'd retired to bed, George thought that he could hear the bathroom door being opened and the shower being used. 

~*~

The weekend came. The weekend went. Bucky spent most of it holed up in his room, his homework unfinished, any food he was brought was left untouched. He knew that his father was worried and his phone told him that he'd missed a few calls and texts from Steve but he couldn't bring himself to answer them. 

~*~

He woke up. He showered. He got dressed. He had to shower again. He packed his school bag and, because of the extra shower, had to leave in a rush. Today was a school day. Was it a gym day? He couldn't remember. He floated to school and sat in his lessons. His moves and his mind robotic.   
“Hey Buck, you listenin'?” Steve prodded Bucky with his ruler as they sat together in, math was it? It didn't really matter. Bucky turned to look at his friend, unaware that the blonde had been speaking to him for the past few minutes.   
“I asked if you got your English assignment done.” Steve said looking concerned. They'd been friends so long, Steve instantly knew when something wasn't right with him. He found himself not caring which, he realised, seemed to be the case with everything. What did anything matter when it was all so pointless? When he was so tainted? Nothing would ever be the same again...

He suddenly stood up and bolted for the door, deaf to the teacher's demands of wanting to know what was going on. He ran to the nearest toilet and slammed into it, locking the door behind him. He bent over the bowl feeling the sudden urge to vomit. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually eaten so all he managed was some dry heaving. When he felt like he was done, he moved shakily to wash his hands anyway because he felt so fucking filthy all the time. He looked at the dead eyed reflection of the boy in the mirror. He didn't recognise what he saw.

Something was seriously wrong with him.

~*~

Sarah Rogers abandoned the newspaper crossword to answering the ringing phone. She expected it to be Bucky. She knew there was something going on between the two boys. She hadn't seen her son's best friend for the entire weekend and she couldn't remember that last time that had happened. Steve had been his usual stubborn self and refused to talk about it although Mother's Intution gave her the feeling that he didn't know what was going on either. That made it all the more troubling. 

As it happened, it wasn't Bucky. It was George Barnes.   
“Sarah?” 

“George.” Sarah took the phone to the kitchen table and sat back down. “How are you? It's been a while since we talked.” 

“Yeah.” George replied uneasily. “I'm-I'm worried about Bucky.” He admitted. He sounded horribly uncomfortable, blurting out the words clumsily.  
“What's wrong?” She asked, her brows knitting together. The last time she and George had discussed Bucky like this, it had been shortly after Winifred Barnes' death and George had felt that Bucky would benefit from Sarah talking to him about it. As George began to explain what had been going on over the weekend and how his son had been behaving, she listened with concern. She'd hoped that the fuss between Steve and Bucky had simply been the result of some petty argument they would resolve themselves. This however, seemed a lot more serious.   
“Perhaps he's just tired?” She offered, hoping that a simple explanation would be the best. 

“It's not that.” George sighed heavily. Sarah could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way she'd seen all those years ago. “He's so pale now and so unlike himself. You know Bucky, you can't usually shut him up. He comes home from school and goes straight to his bedroom. He doesn't even seem to be hanging around with Steve much.” 

“No, that's true.” Sarah agreed. She had her son currently mooning around the house as if totally bereft to prove it. “Well...perhaps you should try talking to him?” She suggested. 

“That's uh...that's why I called actually.” George admitted. “I was hoping that you could. You know...I'm not good at this sort of thing...it was always Winnie's department.” He said her name quietly, reverently and Sarah just wanted to reach out and hug him.   
“Well perhaps I could pick the boys up from school tomorrow? I'm working the early shift at the hospital. I'll bring them here and send Steve off on some errand and see if I can get Bucky to talk. How about that?”

“That would be great Sarah.” She heard George blow a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.” 

~*~

George was sitting silently at the kitchen table, a half drank cup of coffee beside him. It was late and he should've gone to bed at least an hour ago. Despite his phone call with Sarah Rogers, he wasn't feeling much better. He felt like a failure. Unable to talk to his own child to get to the bottom of whatever was troubling him. Winnie would be ashamed...

In the midst of the silence he heard the click of a door and seconds later, his son's shadow appeared in the doorway. Bucky's tired eyes looked at his father for a moment before quickly looking away as he entered the small kitchen. George watched him as Bucky opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk. He moved like a ghost as he got himself a glass and started to pour, all the while silent. He looked so pale and haunted. George swore he felt his heart break. He inwardly cursed his own awkwardness and inability to simply start a serious conversation about his son's emotions. 

When he was done pouring the glass, Bucky just stared at it as though it contained some sort of answer he was looking for. George frowned. It was awful to see his son acting so different to his usual self. He couldn't stand in any more.   
“I know something's up.” He blurted out, a lot more bluntly than he intended. Bucky continued to stare at the glass of milk as if he hadn't heard a single word. “I know I'm shit at this kind of stuff...but I'm your Dad Bucky...I'm here for you son, always.” 

Bucky picked up the glass. George could see that his son's hand was trembling.   
“It was always your mo- well, just...say something to me Bucky” George continued. “Talk to me. I want to know why you're not happy because you're clearly not. Are you feeling ill?” 

Bucky shook his head, eyes cast down. His knuckles were turning white around glass. George frowned.  
“So you're not ill. Ok. Then what is it?” 

Eyes still cast down. No response.  
“Bucky?”  
Slowly, mechanically, Bucky put the milk back into the fridge. He picked up the glass again and, as if he were watching in slow motion, George saw it fall to the kitchen floor. It shattered into pieces as it hit the tile. Milk splashed everywhere. Bucky's hands rushed to his own face. 

He screamed and burst into sobs. Horrible, loud sobs that George had never heard his son make before. 

Within a nanosecond of the noise starting, George was up and on his feet, his arms wrapping around his son and lifting him away from the glass as though he were a little boy again and not a teenager almost as tall as he was. He felt his son cling to him tightly as he sobbed. George half walked, half carried Bucky to his bedroom and helped him sit down on the bed. Tears were coursing down the boy's cheeks and he was trembling violently. He looked so weak and helpless that George had trouble holding back his own tears. He knelt down in front of the crying boy and took hold of his shaking hands. Bucky shook his head and tried to pull away but George held firm. Something was wrong and he was sure as hell going to get to the bottom of it. Screw the awkwardness, it had to end now. Whatever it was certainly went deeper than spilt milk. Bucky was normally such a calm and collected person. He'd never seen his son like this before, not even after Winifred passed away.   
“Bucky...baby, please. I know I'm shit at this, we both know that but you need to tell me what's wrong...what's going on?”

Bucky shook his head again, his whole body heaving with the sobs. It was like a dam inside of him had burst spilling out all of his ugliness. How could he even begin to put it into words? He looked at his father through blurry, sore eyes and felt even worse. His father looked exhausted but also scared shitless. He willed himself to stop crying, clutching onto the lifeline of his father's hands, staring at the silver wedding band that he still wore and would never take off.   
“D-d-dad...” Bucky hiccuped from the effort of trying to control his sobs. His father's thumbs gently started to stroke the backs of his hands in an effort to calm him. “I-I can't-tell you..” 

“You can Bucky.” George urged. “You can tell me. I need to know why you're hurting this bad Baby. Whatever this is, you can I tell me. I promise.” 

“I-I-really-c-can't.” Fresh tears welled up and slid down his cheeks. He felt like he was going to be sick. He could feel it. The ugliness. It was rising up inside of him like slime, stoppering his throat and sticking to his tongue, robbing him of his words.   
“Bucky, listen, I've only done two things right in the whole of my life. One of them was marrying your mother and the other one was having you. I've failed you so much but I want you to be happy. I want to take away whatever this pain is that you're keeping inside. You're my good thing Bucky and I want to help you.” George pleaded with desperation. 

But Bucky was devoid of words. He couldn't offer the ones that his father was begging for. The ugliness overwhelmed him and all he could do was stare at those hands that were so familiar to him and feel like another piece of him was breaking away. It terrified him. He jumped when he heard his father sigh.   
“Please James. Just tell somebody. It doesn't have to be me. Tell Steve or Sarah...find somebody to talk to Baby.” 

Time was lost to Bucky once more as the tears slowly subsided and he was laid down. His father stayed with him, his face gentle in the soft light of the bedside lamp. He sat by the bed, his hand slowly carding through Bucky's hair as the tears dried on his face.   
“Go to sleep Son.” George said eventually. “I'm gonna be right next door if you need anything Ok?”   
When he was satisfied that his son was settled down, George quietly slipped from the room making sure to leave the door ajar so he could hear should anything happen. He didn't think he would be getting much sleep. He went into his own bedroom anyway and sat down wearily on the bed without removing his clothes. He stared into space for a moment before slowly sinking his head into his hands.

~*~

The bell trilled to mark the end of the school day. The classroom became a flurry of activity as students hurried to pack their backpacks and rush off to enjoy those sweet after school hours before the next school dayw. Steve felt like he was watching Bucky in slow motion. His best friend was usually right at the front when it came to leaving for the day but he'd barely seemed to notice the bell. That wasn't the only thing that was different about Bucky. He was too quiet, subdued, all the things that were so un-Bucky that Steve couldn't help but worry. Any attempts at conversation regarding the subject were either ignored, brushed off or quickly changed to something inane. That was when Bucky wasn't drifting off into his own world which he seemed to be constantly doing nowadays. Steve frowned. It was like his best friend had been replaced by some weird alien replicant. That, or Steve really needed to stop reading those old horror comics right before bed.   
“James Barnes, stay behind.” Mr Banner announced from the front of the room, shaking his head as students shoved each other aside to get out of the door. Bucky suddenly shot Steve a desperate look. It was the most animated that Steve had seen him all day.   
“Wait for me Steve. Don't leave without me.” He begged, looking straight into Steve's eyes. He looked frantic. 

“Sure Buck, Mom's pickin' us up anyway remember?” Steve knew Bucky wouldn't remember. He could barely construct a sentence these days, let alone remember a conversation. It made Steve sick to think about it.   
“You'll stay?” Bucky grabbed Steve's wrist.

“I said so didn't I?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “You're hurtin' me Buck!” He released his arm from Bucky's desperate death grip.   
“You can wait outside Steve.” Mr Banner nodded towards the door. With one last concerned look in Bucky's direction and a whispered reassurance that he'd be literally just outside the door, Steve left the room. Mr Banner turned his attention back to Bucky who could feel himself starting to shake. Mr Banner was probably the most docile, laid back teacher in the school but Bucky's heart started to race. When Mr Banner gestured to the chair in front of his desk, Bucky moved towards it on jelly-like legs.   
“First things first James, you're not in any trouble so please, try to relax. This is totally informal.” Mr Banner said calmly. “I've noticed that recently you seem to be having some trouble in my classes. You're not completing work assignments and it was obvious, even to me, that you weren't concentrating today. Now I know math isn't exactly something to get excited about but still, I do expect some participation in my class. Is the work too hard for you?”

“N-no Sir.” Bucky replied, swallowing hard. Why couldn't he stop shaking? This was Mr Banner. He was being ridiculous.  
“I've heard similar things from some of the other teachers.” Mr Banner continued. He smiled wryly. “It may come as a surprise but teachers do talk to each other. What may shock you even more is that some of us actually care about the students we teach. That being said, what's going on James? Is it a problem at home?”   
Bucky could do nothing but shake his head. Mr Banner however, wasn't going to be deterred that easily.   
“Perhaps it's a school problem?” He offered only to be met by absolute silence. Not even a nod. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Maybe it's a problem I can help you with?”   
Bucky shook his head once more. The ugliness was stirring up again just like it had done last night. He willed himself to not start crying.  
“You and Steve are joined at the hip. Why not tell him what's going on? You need to talk to somebody James as it's obvious that something is bothering you. I need you concentrating in my classes, in all of your classes.” Mr Banner sighed, obviously accepting defeat. He slid a piece of paper across the desk. “Here's your latest assignment. I expect it to be handed in on time ok? Now...go catch up with Steve and remember that my door is always open to you if you ever need to talk.”   
Bucky nodded and stood up, grateful that he could get away. He grabbed his backpack and practically ran to the door and left the room without looking back at Mr Banner. 

Steve was nowhere to be seen. A quick glance down the corridor and it was empty. He was glad that there were no other students in sight. He wanted to be alone, be away from the school and in the safety of his own home. Although, he knew deep down, that even there he wasn't safe from whatever this thing was inside of him. It was hurting, throbbing with an insistence that was getting all the more harder to ignore. He wanted to tell someone. He wanted to tell his father but-

And then, he froze. 

Someone turned into the corridor. Pierce. The man who had changed his whole world. The man who had caused him pain physically and mentally. The originator of this horrible ugliness that seemed to be taking over his body at an alarming rate. Fear, revulsion and sheer terror grasped him all at once, pulling his mind this way and that. He let out an involuntary noise akin to a whimper. Pierce was closer now, that disgusting shark like grin spreading across his face.   
“James Barnes. How wonderful to see you.”   
Bucky wondered if he'd actually stopped breathing. No part of his body seemed to be working. He was rooted to the spot. He wanted to scream but he couldn't. His voice had disappeared, failing him again.   
“I've missed you James Barnes.” Pierce said as pleasantly as if they were chatting about the weather. “I've missed you in my changing rooms. Yes...you have a very special presence.” He leant forward slightly and inhaled. “Mmm, very special indeed. And tomorrow is gym class is it not?” He smirked. “I shall be looking forward to seeing you tomorrow then.” He moved away with an almost fluid like motion, his hand coming into contact with Bucky's hip. His fingers pressed in, knowing that the bruises that he had caused would still be there. And then, like a ghost, he was gone. 

Bucky ran. 

And collided straight into Steve.   
“Buck?”

“Get off me Steve!” Bucky yelled, shoving Steve away so hard that he nearly toppled over. Steve could see the wildness in Bucky's eyes. It looked like pure, raw pain. Bucky's face was frantic, his breathing erratic and he was struggling as if invisible hands were touching him.  
“Buck, what's wrong with you? What's happened?” 

“Go away Steve! Leave me the fuck alone!” Bucky screamed. It echoed down the empty corridor. Luckily there were no teachers around.   
“B-”

“No!” Bucky sobbed, covering his face with his hands. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to reach deep inside of him and pull out the ugliness that was clawing away at his insides. He sank to the floor, unable to support his own weight any more.   
“Buck...” Steve had crossed over from worried to utterly terrified. He'd never seen Bucky behave this way before, not even after his mother died. Every instinct within him told him to reach out and pull his best friend into a hug but touching him seemed to make things worse. He looked around helplessly. Eventually, slowly and carefully as though he was approaching a wounded animal, Steve wrapped his hands around Bucky's wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. What he saw shook him to his very core. Bucky's eyes were glazed over and dead-looking. The mischievous light that usually blazed in his best friend's eyes seemed to have been totally extinguished. Bucky looked disturbed. “Bucky please...tell me what's goin' on here.” He asked gently. He knelt down next to him, ignoring the fact they were in the middle of the school corridor. “I wanna help you Buck but you gotta tell me”   
“Steve...Stevie...” Bucky seemed to snap out of his trance enough to meet Steve's eyes. He looked desperate and in so much pain. Steve could swear he could feel his heart aching at the sight.   
“What Buck? C'mon, tell me.” Steve gripped Bucky's wrists a little tighter, hoping the move was reassuring. If he tried hard enough, perhaps he could pass on some of his strength. Maybe then Bucky would be able to tell him what was going on.   
“It's...I've been..” Bucky shook his head. His eyes moved away from Steve's and instead looked at the floor beneath them. “S'nothing.” He said after a moment or two. 

“Seriously Buck, you gonna make me slap you?” Steve said, dropping Bucky's arms. His sudden burst of anger seemed to have no effect whatsoever on his best friend. Sighing heavily and resolving to speak to his mother about the situation, Steve reached forward and wrapped Bucky in a tight hug. Unfortunately, this seemed to have no effect either. 

~*~

If there was ever a day that Sarah Rogers needed to get out of the hospital on time, it was today. That was, annoyingly, where Murphy's Law seemed to come into play as was usually the case in these situations. There'd been some sort of accident at a nearby warehouse and it was all hands on deck in the Emergency Room. Casualty after casualty appeared through the doors and each case seemed to be more complicated than the last. She kept glancing at the clock whenever she could and as it got closer to the time that the boys were due to finish school, she knew there was no way she was going to make it on time to pick them up. As soon as she got a second, she texted Steve to let him know of the change of plan and George her apology. 

It would be ok, she told herself as she was called into the trauma room once more, there would always be tomorrow. 

~*~

“Since Mom isn't gonna be back for a while, mind if I come in?” Steve asked when they reached the apartment Bucky shared with his father. He had homework and chores to do but there was no way in hell he was going to leave his best friend in this sort of state. What happened back at the school had scared him and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Bucky shrugged at the question and let himself into the apartment. Steve followed, dumping his backpack alongside Bucky's and watching his friend careful as Bucky threw his jacket over the arm of a nearby chair before sitting down on the sofa. He made no moves to offer Steve a drink or a snack and seemed to be drifting off into the world that he seemed to inhabit nowadays. A world that nobody else but him seemed to be a part of. 

Steve sat down next to Bucky and stared down at the carpet in front of them. He heard Bucky let out a soft sigh.   
“I'm here if you need me Buck.” He said gently. 

“My Dad said a similar thing.” Bucky replied quietly. He was fiddling with a loose string on the knee of his ripped jeans. Steve could see the slight tremor in his fingers. “Told me to talk to someone...” He added. 

“Then talk.” Steve urged. “I care about you Buck, you know I do and I hate seeing you like this. You're always the one that tells me I've got my head in the clouds but this isn't somethin' else. You're so...haunted.” He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling near tears. “Does your Dad know?”

“No.” Bucky answered firmly. He was still playing with the string, wrapping it round and round his finger until his fingertip started to turn purple. “He's never gonna Stevie. I can't. I'm too fucking dir-”   
Almost as if he'd been struck by lightning, Bucky stood up and rushed out of the room. A few seconds later, Steve heard the bathroom door slam and the lock being turned. Then the sound of the shower at full blast. Steve huffed in frustration. Determined as he may be, it was nothing against the force of Bucky's stubbornness. 

He hung around for another twenty minutes, listening to the sound of the shower running. It was becoming obvious that Bucky wouldn't be coming out any time soon. Probably to avoid the questions. Steve sighed deeply, scribbled his friend a quick note and left. 

~*~

In the shower, under water so hot it almost hurt, Bucky scrubbed and scrubbed. First with the soap, then with his flannel and then with a scouring pad they used to clean the bath with. His skin was becoming inflamed and painful but Bucky could still feel Pierce's touch. He raked the scouring pad across his shoulders once more. It didn't matter. He could stay under this water for the rest of his life and it still wouldn't make any difference. His skin felt sullied, branded by Pierce, no longer his own.   
“I need help.” He muttered. Steve would be gone by now but even if he wasn't, there was no way he could be heard over the thunder of the shower. “I need someone. Anyone. I can't do this anymore.”   
The bruises were fading but he could still feel them as if they were fresh. He didn't no how much longer he could live this ugliness inside of him

~*~

Steve sat by his bedroom window as he scribbled away in his sketchbook. He bit his lip distractedly as he tried to work out how he could make Bucky talk to him. There had to be a way to get it out of him. He cursed as he pressed too hard and snapped the lead of his pencil. He flung it across the room and it bounced off his bedroom door before landing with a clatter on his chest of drawers. Seconds later, the sketchbook followed.   
“Hey, hey, what's all this?” Sarah asked as she opened the door. She looked utterly exhausted. 

“Sorry Mom.” Steve said guiltily. She'd briefly explained about the emergency in her text message so he knew his mother must be feeling wiped out. He was beginning to feel that way himself. Tired out from all the worry. Frustrated because of the situation. He couldn't help but sigh.   
“Talk to me.” Sarah sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to her. Steve moved from his seat at the window and sat down beside her. She put her arm around him and he couldn't help but lean into it. Why wasn't anything simple any more?   
“It's Bucky.” 

“I figured that Honey.” Sarah replied. “How was he today?”

“Same as he's been for days Mom. Weird and not like himself. I tried talking to him but I'm getting nowhere!” Steve exclaimed, anger rising once more. “Fuck!” 

“Language.” Sarah said gently. “I'm sorry I wasn't there for you this afternoon Honey. So you tried talking to him again?” She rubbed Steve's back gently. The gesture had always calmed him down when he was a little boy and it seemed to be doing the trick now as she felt his rigid muscles slowly begin to relax a little.   
“Yeah.” Steve hung his head. “I got nothing but that's not even the annoying part. He keeps almost saying something like he really wants to tell me but then...I don't know, something stops him.” 

“I know it's a frustrating situation. We've just got to let Bucky know that we're there for him and hopefully he'll talk to us in his own time.” 

“He's hurting Mom. I'm his best friend! I'm supposed to help him.” Steve had never felt so helpless in his life and he hated it.   
“Honey, you do help him. You're helping him by letting him know you're there for him.” Sarah paused for a moment. “How about I try and get one of my shifts covered this week and he can sleepover? Maybe if he's more relaxed, he might open up to one of us.” 

“I hope so.” Steve bit his bottom lip. He knew that neither he nor Bucky could go on much longer like this. 

~*~

Bucky sat on the bathroom floor. He was still dripping wet from his last shower but he didn't have the energy to dry himself. Tomorrow was another school day. A gym class day. Pierce would be there tomorrow. He didn't, didn't, want to go to school. He was too afraid. It wasn't safe. 

He hugged his knees. 

He never wanted to see Pierce again. Never wanted to feel that touch. Not that it mattered. The seed had been planted now. The ugliness was growing and growing and even now, dripping with water and smelling strongly of disinfectant, he could still feel the man's touch all over him. He just wanted it to be over. Be done with. He wanted to forget and wait for it all to go away but he knew that wasn't a possibility. He was changed forever now. He would never be the person he was before. He was tainted permenantly and it wouldn't be long before it would show on the outside as well as on the inside. It hurt and he hurt and he wanted the hurt to go away. There was nobody who could take it away. Not Steve, not his father. He was sick and he was wrong and he would always be that way. 

He squeezed his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. The dirt was overcoming him again. The ugliness rearing its head and roaring to be heard. He would never be clean. Never. Why didn't he fucking run away? Why didn't he scream until his lungs burned? Somebody would've heard. Someone would've come running and he wouldn't have to feel this way. But he didn't. Maybe he deserved it.

He pressed his forehead to his knees and began to sob, the sound echoing in the tiled bathroom making him feel as though he were trapped alone in a void. Even death couldn't be worse than this. 

~*~

George arrived home carrying a bag of Bucky's favourite take-out food. He hoped that it would go some of the way to apologising for his busy schedule. He also hoped that it just might tempt his son into eating something. He'd noticed that Bucky barely ate this days, picking at his food and eating a few bites before pushing it away.   
“Son! Bucky? I got take-out!” He called down the hallway as he kicked off his shoes. There was a part of him that hoped, however unlikely may be, that the meal together might encourage Bucky to talk about what was going on with him. George wasn't holding out much hope.   
“Bucky?” He called again. He couldn't hear the noise of the shower, which was another frequent occurrence these days, nor were the lights on in the lounge. The only light in the apartment leaked from underneath his son's bedroom door. 

George made a beeline for the bedroom. Even if Bucky was asleep, he was going to wake him. The boy needed some proper food in him even if they didn't talk. He opened the bedroom door and found Bucky laying on his bed on top of the covers. He was dressed in his usual t-shirt and pyjama pants that he wore to bed except there was something else on the covers. Something that pooled around Bucky, reflecting in the light from the bedside lamp. 

Blood.

The pool continued to spread. The take-out bag dropped to the floor, its contents exploding all over the carpet. 

~*~

Steve tossed aside his copy of '10,000 Leagues Under The Sea' aside sullenly. It was way past the time he should be asleep but he just couldn't settle down. He'd felt better when his mother was around but now that she'd gone to bed all of his worry came flooding back. Every time he closed his eyes he couldn't help but think of Bucky. He probably wasn't sleeping much. He'd probably be sitting up in his own bed right now, maybe upset. All these thoughts raced around Steve's head so he couldn't even lose himself in his favourite science fiction books. 

The phone rang, startling him. For one brief moment he wondered if it was Bucky somehow sensing that he was awake too. He leapt out of bed and raced into the hallway but his mother had gotten there first.   
“Hello?”   
Steve stood in the doorway and watched. It was too late for it to be anything good. Good news never came in the middle of the night.  
“Oh god! Yes. Yes of course I can. Of course. No problem. See you soon ok?” Sarah replaced the phone in its cradle and turned to Steve. To his shock her eyes were shining with tears.   
“M-mom?” Steve suddenly felt his stomach drop to his feet. He knew what it would be before she even said anything. If he really thought about it, he knew that he should've seen it coming.   
“It's Bucky, Honey.” Sarah replied. “Put some clothes on, we need to go to the hospital.” 

END OF CHAPTER ONE!


	2. Ugliness - Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left kudos, commmented and bookmarked this story! I'm glad you're enjoying it. If you'd like you can come and check me out on tumblr. My handle over there is mr-barnes-if-ya-nasty. Check it out!

Ugliness – Chapter Two

The first thing Bucky became aware of was the sterile smell that pinched at his nostrils. He opened his eyes and saw a white tiled ceiling above. His first thought was that his ceiling at home wasn't that colour. He quickly closed his eyes again hoping to blur the lines between reality and the dreamy world he felt like he'd just slipped out of. Things had seemed a lot simpler there, quieter and less painful. He fidgeted and a dull pain flared up both of his arms. Then it hit him. Where he was. Why he was in pain. Why his fingers felt so strange and numb. 

He'd failed. He'd fucked up. 

With great trepidation, Bucky opened his eyes once more. He was obviously in a hospital room. There was a soft light over his bed and next to him, in a chair, was his father. He was leant forward, his head in his hands. As his father came into focus through his bleary eyes, Bucky could see that his father's hair was sticking up in various directions. His work shirt looked rumpled. Bucky looked away as he pretended that he didn't just see him dash tears away from his eyes. His attentions instead turned to his arms. His wrists were wrapped in bandages almost up to the crook of his elbow. A cannula had been inserted into the back of his left hand and was connected to an IV bag that hung above him. He heard his father let out a shaky sigh.   
“Hey Son.” 

“Hey.” Bucky answered, his voice croaky, his throat parched. “I-”

“How about we talk this over tomorrow? When you're a bit more awake?” George suggested. His face was dark with five o clock shadow. He looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. Guilt pierced Bucky's heart. He'd done this. His father looked this way because of him. And oh, god, how he'd nearly put his father through the loss of a son as well as a wife. He wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. He felt dried up, exhausted and like there was nothing of him left. His father must've sensed his distress because his hand came to rest near his cheek. “Sleep Bucky. I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere Son.”   
Bucky's eyes slid closed.

 

~*~

The following morning, Bucky opened his eyes to find that, once again, he was not alone. This time however, the person was on his bed, laying beside him. He could feel the warmth radiating from the body. A very familiar body. He breathed in a familiar smell that felt like home. A halo of golden blonde hair and searching blue eyes greeted him with a shaky smile.  
“Mornin'” Steve sounded quiet, subdued. Bucky wanted to close his eyes again, slip back into oblivion. Today was the day that all of the questioning would start and he wasn't ready for it. Not one bit. “Glad you're still with us.” Steve added. “Your Dad went to go get you some stuff. Mom had a shift so she swung it with the doctors for me to stay with you.” He explained. 

“Hey Stevie.” Bucky whispered. His voice still felt strange, like it hadn't been used for a long time. He supposed, in a way, that it hadn't. He briefly wondered what had happened to the ugliness. It was still there somewhere, lurking within him, ready to strike no doubt once the haze of painkillers had worn off.   
“Buck?” Steve was staring at him, his eyes earnest, his mouth a straight line of determination as if he were holding back his emotions. “I...I'm so sorry.” His voice cracked and so did Bucky's heart. 

“For what?” Bucky frowned. The only person in this room, in his entire life, that should be sorry was himself. He'd caused all of this simply because he couldn't keep his shit in check.   
“Letting you down. Letting it...letting it come to this.” Steve nodded at the bandages. “M'your best friend Buck. I should've been there. Should've done more. I failed you.” He sniffed, obviously trying to keep a lid on his tears. “Don't ever go away. Please. I need you. We all need you. I was terrified when Mom told me what happened. We all were.” He reached out and touched Bucky's arm, being careful to avoid the bandages by touching above his elbow. “I wanna ask why but I guess you're not gonna tell me.” 

“I-I can't Stevie.” Bucky looked away from the pleading eyes and at the stark white sheets instead. If Steve kept this up much longer, Bucky was sure he was going to break.   
“You can Buck. You hafta. This-this can't happen again. This hurt that you've been hiding from us all...give me some of it.” Steve offered.   
Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes.   
“P-punk. Always gotta make me cry.” He wanted to reach out and hug his best friend but what if the ugliness was catching? It would be a cold day in hell when he would let it infect Steve Rogers. 

As it happened, Steve was the one who initiated the hug and, for once, Bucky didn't pull away. It felt good to be in the comforting arms of his best friend. So for now, at least until the ugliness came back full force, he decided to allow himself to be hugged and feel comforted.

~*~

Very much against his will, Steve returned to school the next day. His mother had reassured him that he could visit Bucky after school but that his best friend needed time with his father and his doctor to talk over what had happened and to take steps to make sure it didn't happen again. So that's how, that morning, he found himself sitting in Mr Stan's English class doing his best impression of concentrating on the lesson at hand.   
“Mr Rogers?” Steve blinked out of his reverie to realise that Mr Stan was staring directly at him reproachfully. There were a couple of smirks coming from the people sitting around. Steve guessed he probably looked pretty dumb. “Welcome back Mr Rogers.” Mr Stan added with a note of sarcasm when he saw that he had Steve's attention. “I would very much appreciate it if you could concentrate on my lesson.” He said reproachfully.

“Yes Sir.” Steve felt himself blushing. “Sorry Sir.”   
Mr Stan nodded at him and turned to continue writing on the whiteboard. Steve felt something jab him in the back. He turned around to see a smug looking Brock Rumlow brandishing a ruler. Steve's eyes narrowed. If there was ever anyone that personified the word 'douche-bag' it was Brock Rumlow. He and his best friend Jack Rollins were always in some sort of trouble and always acting like assholes to someone. They'd bullied Steve since middle school well, they'd tried. Together, Bucky and Steve were a force to be reckoned with when it came to bullying dickheads.  
Steve could already feel his anger bubbling up as Rumlow grinned at him. Rollins was watching with an excited expression. He obviously though this was going to be good.   
“Heard about Barnes.” He said with a vicious spark in his eyes. “So...is crazy catching? We heard he got thrown into a nut ward. That true?” He taunted as Rollins chortled next to him, egging him on and screwing his finger into the side of his head to indicate madness. “I guess they should try putting a few bolts of electricity through that messed up brain of his. Try and shock the crazy out.” 

If Bucky were there, he'd have seen it coming a mile off and done something to stop it. But he wasn't there and so there was nobody to stop Steve flying straight out of his seat and right at Rumlow. Although Rumlow was known as a bully and a fighter, he didn't stand a chance against Steve's fierce protectiveness and white hot rage. Steve yanked him out of his chair and successfully pinned him to the floor and even though Rumlow had a good few pounds on him, managed to keep him there as he landed a punch straight to the face. He didn't stop there as he threw punch after punch. All he could see what Bucky's pained expression, his bandaged wrists and the livid red lines Steve knew would be underneath them. He was briefly aware of some students chanting 'fight, fight, fight' and then Peggy's voice shouting at him to stop but he was a man possessed.   
“If you ever say anything like that again about my best friend, I won't hesitate to kick your ass even harder Rumlow.” Steve snarled. He punched him again. “I could do this all day.” He added as he gripped Rumlow's throat. 

“Steven Rogers! What is the meaning of this?” Mr Stan demanded as he pulled Steve away from Rumlow who was now sporting an impressive looking nose bleed. Before Mr Stan could remove Steve from the area of conflict, Rumlow spat a mouthful of blood. It landed on Steve's t-shirt and Steve kicked out, managing to graze Rumlow's leg before he was hauled bodily out of the classroom. He heard Mr Stan bark a few orders at the class before he was in the corridor standing in front of Steve and looking very displeased indeed. “Perhaps you would care to tell me what that was all about? You know I abhor violence of any kind.” 

“I'm sorry Sir.” Steve hung his head, his anger melting away to be replaced by shame. Although he felt proud at having stuck up for his best friend, he knew he was going to rue the day once he'd explained it to his mother.   
“I think we need to go and talk to the principal about this.” Mr Stan concluded after appraising Steve for a moment. He marched away motioning for him to follow. Steve did so, his mind drifting away from that dickhead Rumlow and back to Bucky and wondering if he'd talked to his doctor.

~*~

Bucky felt utterly adrift a couple of days later when he was finally discharged from the hospital with a clean bill of physical health and allowed home. The apartment seemed oddly different somehow. He'd come so close to never stepping through that front door again. He almost felt as though he no longer belonged in the place he'd always called home. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt made bulky from the bandages beneath. His father, who was clearly watching him like a hawk, frowned.   
“Everything ok?” He enquired. Bucky nodded but his father didn't seem to deem that an adequate enough response. “What's going on?” 

“Just feel weird.” Bucky muttered with a shrug. He was unsure of how to put his feelings into words. “I don't know.” He shrugged again. “Guess I'm just tired.” He added because his father was beginning to look worried. He'd seen enough of that expression over the past couple of days to last him a lifetime.  
“You can have a rest if you want.” George replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Although it's gonna have to be in my bed. I still haven't sorted yours. What with being at the hospital.” He looked away, obviously feeling awkward. 

Bucky felt guilty. It was his fault. All of this. His father's worry, his damaged bed. It was all caused by him. He hung his head. A moment later, he felt his father's hands on his shoulders. He didn't trust himself to look up. He felt all cried out.  
“Come on son, let's get you into bed. I think the rest might do you some good.” George said gently as he started to lead Bucky towards the bedroom. 

~*~

A few hours later, he was gently shaken awake by his father.   
“Bucky? It's lunchtime. Come and get something to eat.” He helped Bucky out of the bed and the pair headed down the hallway towards the kitchen. “I'll make you something.” George added as they entered the small kitchen.   
“No offence Dad but your cooking sucks.” Bucky said as his father opened the fridge. 

“Cheeky.” George chided lightly. He smiled slightly. That had been the first sign of 'The Old Bucky' that he'd seen for a long time. It had only been days but it felt like months. It was nice to see. He closed the fridge and took a seat at the table. “The kitchen's all yours.” He said with a grin. 

Bucky nodded and grabbed some bread from the counter top and the peanut butter from the cupboard. He actually felt hungry which he supposed was a good sign. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt actual hunger and not that painful ache instead. He opened the cutlery drawer and his hunger died instantly.  
“Where are all the knives?” He demanded, staring at the empty slot of the cutlery tray in the drawer. He heard his father take a deep breath. He turned around to face him.   
“I put them away.” He explained calmly. 

And that was when Bucky realised. His suicide attempt had just made everything worse. He wanted his life back, he wanted some fucking normality! Not this shit. He felt his chest tighten, long dormant anger flaring up within him.   
“Why?” He yelled suddenly, making his father jump. “Why did you do that? I just want-fuck-I just-god! Why do you even think I'd do that again? I fucked it up didn't I? I fuck everything up!” He screamed, flailing his arms wildly. He slammed his fist down on the counter. “You don't have to worry about me doing that again because I'm fucking shit! I'm fucking shit at everything in my life! I can't even tell you or Steve what the hell is wrong! I bet you cleared out the damn bathroom cabinet too didn't you?” He spat accusingly. 

Feeling helpless, George watched as his clearly unstable son burst into tears and raced from the room. Fear gripped his heart. He leapt up and followed him. He reached the bathroom door only to have it slammed in his face. He heard the click of the lock as it was turned. 

Bucky wrenched open the bathroom cabinet to find it completely devoid of any painkillers or tablets that he could use to harm himself. He let out a cry of frustration and punched the side of the cabinet. The remaining items wobbled on their shelves and some spilled into the sink with a clatter. Blind to the mess he was making, Bucky kept punching the side of the cabinet, again and again until he heard the crack of the wood beginning to splinter. He could hear his father's pleas for him to stop and the door rattling but he didn't care. It seemed that everything was as fucked up as he was now. He sobbed as his anger quickly died down and exhausted took over. He sunk to the floor amongst the scattered contents of the cabinet. 

On the other side of the door, George was panicking. There was no way he could get the door open from his side and he didn't want to risk kicking it down in case he hurt Bucky. That was, of course, if Bucky hadn't already hurt himself.   
“Please Son.” He whispered through the door. “Please don't hurt yourself.” He wondered what the hell he was going to do. His son had never been so aggressive before. It was another thing to add to his rapidly growing pile of worries. He promptly sat down on the carpet, his back against the locked door. “Bucky?” Unsurprisingly he received no reply. “I'm here for you Baby.” 

He stayed there for an hour, carefully listening for any noises from the bathroom. He could hear the sounds of things being picked up, picked out of the sink and being put back onto shelves. He heard the bathroom cabinet close before the shower started up. George breathed out a sigh of relief. It seemed as though danger, at least for now, was over. 

~*~

George was nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table when he heard the bathroom door finally open. He wanted to hurry towards his son but figured that it probably wasn't the best move to make. Instead he focussed on the photographs on the fridge door as he waited for his son to come to him. They were photos of happier times. A couple of Bucky as a baby that embarrassed his son to no end and one of the three of them on a family holiday. Bucky was grinning at the camera, standing in the middle of George and Winifred. His son looked so carefree and innocent in that photo. Miles away from the pain and darkness he seemed to hold within him now. George's eyes moved to those of his wife and he felt sadness squeeze his heart. If she were here he knew things would be different. She would've been able to get Bucky to talk to her by now. They'd probably had even been able to avoid the suicide attempt. George always missed his wife but even more so in the difficult times. He sighed heavily and took another sip from his mug. He heard shuffling and turned around to see Bucky enter the kitchen. He was dressed in his pyjamas and his hair was still damp from the shower.   
“M'sorry Dad.” He said quietly. Tears filled his eyes and spilled over his cheeks. George was on his feet in an instant. He pulled his son into a tight hug. 

“Damn son, you're gonna break my heart one day, you know that?” He said into Bucky's damp hair. “You don't need to apologise Baby.” 

“M'still sorry.” Bucky muttered into the fabric of George's sweater. George pulled away and wiped tears from his son's eyes.   
“So since you didn't eat your lunch, how about we get take out for dinner?” George suggested. He tried not to think about the last time he'd gotten take out as Bucky nodded his agreement. “How about you give Steve a call and invite him round?” George added. “You know he'll want to see you.” 

~*~

Bucky didn't comment on the fact that his father waited for Steve to arrive before he left to get the take out. He supposed he was going to have to get used to being watched. As a matter of fact, Steve was watching him right now and not the TV show that they'd half-heartedly tuned in to.   
“Don't say you're ok.” Steve said eventually. 

“I wasn't gonna.” Bucky replied, trying to focus on the TV screen rather than his best friend. He heard Steve snort.  
“Good cos I know it's a crock of shit. Don't say you're sorry either and don't tell me you weren't gonna cos I know you were.” 

“Doesn't leave me with much to say then.” Bucky said moodily. Steve snatched the TV remote from his hands and flicked the TV off. He grabbed Bucky and forced him to make eye contact.   
“Course it does.” Steve said, leaving his hand on Bucky's arm. “You could tell me what's going on.”  
They were back here again, Bucky thought bitterly. Just like back at the hospital. They'd hugged back then and Bucky had briefly felt comforted. There was something about Steve's touch that reassured him but now, now it terrified him. The ugliness was back in full force and he knew that by touching him, he might pass it on to Steve. It couldn't happen. Steve was too perfect, too pure for something like that. And his father had hugged him earlier hadn't he? What if he made both of them tainted with his ugliness? He prised his arm away from Steve's grip like his best friend's hand was burning hot. Momentary hurt crossed Steve's features before they rearranged into concern.   
"I shouldn't even be touching you Stevie." 

"Why would you say something like that Buck?" He moved forward to take Bucky's hand but Bucky moved back quickly. "Tell me." 

"Because I might make you dirty like me." Bucky replied in a small voice. He fiddled with one of the cushions on the sofa so that he didn't have to look at his best friend. "C-Can't do that." 

"Why won't you talk to me Buck?" Steve asked. He didn't sound angry or accusing, just sad. 

"Told you. I can't." He kneaded the cushion. Why did he try and kill himself? All he'd done was draw more attention to himself, more questions that he couldn't answer. More pain for the people that he cared about. Useless. He was useless.   
"I'm not gonna push you." Steve said. "I feel like maybe I did that enough already. I just...want you to know I'm only doing it because I'm so worried about you. When I heard what you'd done, well, it hurt me and all I can of think of is what must've happened to you to make you wanna leave us that way." Steve swallowed hard. "Whatever it was must've been bad and-" He paused when he realised that Bucky had dissolved into tears. "Oh Buck, I'm sorry. Please, can I hug you? I don't care about the dirty thing. Make me dirty. I really don't give a fuck." Before Bucky could argue or have the chance to pull away, Steve enveloped him in a hug. Bucky tensed but eventually rested his head on his friend's shoulder. They stayed like that for a few minutes before they heard the front door open and Bucky pulled away, quickly wiping his sore eyes.   
"Pizza's up boys." George called as he dumped the pizza boxes on the kitchen table. Bucky and Steve moved off the sofa and took a seat. George opened the boxes and doled out plates. It ended up being the first meal that Bucky could remember enjoying in a long time.   
~*~

Before retiring to the sofa to sleep that night, George decided one last check on his son was in order. He'd been happy to see Bucky eat a couple of slices of pizza and even join in a conversation about aliens that Steve had started. He briefly wondered if Steve had managed to coax anything out of his son but that seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was time for him to give it another go. Maybe the aggression was a sign that Bucky was finally starting to feel like he could talk about it. It didn't seem at all likely but George had to hope. 

He opened his bedroom door and found Bucky in bed with something that he hadn't seen in a very long time.   
"Now there's a familiar face." He said as he approached the bed. He smiled at the stuffed bear that was poking its head out of the bedcovers. "I thought you got rid of Jefferson years ago." 

"Nah." Bucky replied quietly. "Just kept him at the back of my closet." 

"He's looking a bit worse for wear." George replied, tweaking the bear's ear. "I remember when you got him. You saw him in that toy store in the mall and told me that you had to have him because he said he was lonely on the shelf without a friend." He smiled at the memory. "And then you said we had to get a bear for Steve too remember?"

"Uh-huh." He hugged Jefferson closer, nuzzling into the aged bear's fur. George grinned and ruffled his hair and the top of Jefferson's head, just like he'd done when Bucky was a child.   
"I have to go back to work tomorrow Son." George said carefully. "We can't really afford for me to miss any more days." He paused for a moment. "And you should really go back to school."

"No!" Bucky sat up quickly, dislodging Jefferson and sending him to the carpet. George sighed and picked him up.   
"Why Bucky? What is it? Are you being bullied, is that it?" 

"No." Bucky grabbed Jefferson and squeezed him tight. "It's not that...I just-I don't feel ready. I'm ok staying here on my own. I promise." 

"I don't know about that-"

"You gotta trust me sometime Dad. I swear, I'm not gonna do that again just please, don't make me go back to school tomorrow." Bucky felt the panic rising and tears fill his eyes. He wasn't ready to go back there, to see him again. Not yet.   
"Ok Son, you can stay at home tomorrow but there's gonna be some rules ok? I'm gonna call you every hour or so and whatever you're doing you're gonna answer it. If you don't answer it then I'll be coming straight home. Understand?" George asked looking firm. Bucky nodded solemnly. "Call me at work if you need to or if you want to talk. I know I'm new to this whole listening thing but you can talk to me." He gently laid Bucky back down and pulled the bedcovers up to his chin.   
"Y'know...you shoulda let the doctor put me in that psych ward." Bucky said into Jefferson's fur.   
"Never gonna happen Son." George replied adamantly. He shut off the bedroom light. "Now get some sleep and I'll wake you up before I leave for work Ok? Night Bucky."

"Night Dad."   
George left the room and Bucky lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, idly stroking Jefferson's paw. He knew that his father would insist he go back to school soon. He couldn't put it off forever. That day was coming and it was going to be a bad day. It was going to be when he'd see him again. He didn't know what he was going to do. 

He began to silently cry. 

~*~

Although George returned to the office the next day, he didn't exactly get straight back to work. As soon as he turned onto his computer he decided to turn to the internet to find a way of helping his son. He opened the search engine and typed in 'depression in teenagers'. Within a second, thousands of hits were returned to him. He decided to start at the top and clicked on the first link. 

He was taken to page describing the reasons why a teenager may become depressed. As he read through them, he felt as if the site was perfectly describing Bucky. It all seemed to fit. Losing a parent. Tension at home. Problems at school was another one that he wasn't certain of but it was highly likely. Feeling alone and not listened to was one that hit home a bit too hard for George's liking. He didn't want to dwell on that one too much. The final reason on the list was physical, mental or sexual abuse. That thought had crossed George's mind but he'd discounted it pretty quickly. He was certain that it wasn't a factor when it came to his son. That sort of thing only happened in the news. 

Another page on the site listed the symptoms of depression and once again, Bucky fit the bill. His moods, his loss of appetite and concentration, becoming withdrawn and not eating or over-eating, the list went on. 

Another site that he found appeared to be dedicated to teenagers who had been successful in their suicide attempts. There were obituaries and stories written by heart-broken parents and friends all paying tribute to those they had lost. It made George realise just how lucky he'd been and how different things could've been for him. He quickly clicked off the page, feeling guilty for doing so but relieved that it was gone. Instead he decided to try the next link and continued to do so for at least half an hour. Link after link, page after page and every one seemed to highlight his failures as a parent. If he'd have taken the time to really notice what was going on with his son, he should've picked up on it long before it came to a suicide attempt. It was all so clear to him now, how Bucky had been acting. Why hadn't he seen it? He could kick himself. He'd been through a similar thing himself when he'd lost Winifred and yet he'd been blind to those same symptoms in his child. 

He decided to try one more link and then call it a day. This was getting him nowhere but deeper and deeper into his own pit of regret. He was supposed to be helping his son. The final link he tried offered a chat room for parents to talk about their issues surrounding their children. Feeling like he had nothing to lose by trying, he clicked on the chat window and entered 'WorriedFather' as his username. In seconds he was connected to a room that had a few people in it. After the usual greetings, George found himself typing out a message. 

WorriedFather: Why didn't I see the signs? It's so obvious. 

He waited for a few moments until a reply popped up. 

AngelsMom: Welcome WF, don't feel guilty. The signs aren't always as obvious as these sites make them seem. May I ask when you lost your child to suicide? 

WorriedFather: I didn't. Thankfully he wasn't successful in his attempt. To be honest I didn't even realise the extent of his depression until I did some research this morning. 

AngelsMom: I'm relieved to hear that your son is still with you. Try not to beat yourself up about what you didn't see before. Now you've realised you can make the steps to getting him some help. The reason for his depression needs to be uncovered and then he can start to heal. There's hope for your son WF. I lost my own son over a year ago and I went through similar feelings myself. That's when I decided to join this site and reach out to people. By letting someone know they're not alone you can do a lot more than you think. 

WorriedFather: Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you have any advice for me? I feel at a loss here. 

AngelsMom: Certainly! I think that you should try and talk to someone your son is close to. Does he have a best friend? There's always a chance your son may have spoken to them and told them. I've found that teenagers keep a lot of secrets and even though it's well meaning, you may have to make his friend realise that it's ultimately for the best to tell you. 

 

George thanked 'AngelsMom' for her advice and wished her all the best before he bade her farewell. She left her email address and informed him that he could contact her any time he needed to. George was grateful for the support. He decided to take on her suggestion and picked up his phone. He flicked through his contacts until he came to Steve's number. He sent a text message asking Steve if he'd talked to Bucky and stressed the importance of honesty. Steve was a good kid but he could see how his unwavering loyalty to his son might make him keep a secret just like 'AngelsMom' had suggested. He only hoped that if Bucky had told him something, Steve would see reason. 

~*~

Bucky sat at the kitchen table, slowly peeling the label of his bottle of juice. He'd barely slept last night and had been completely awake when his father had checked on him before he'd left for work. Other than answer his father's hourly phone calls, Bucky had done nothing but brood about his impending return to school. The thought of seeing Pierce again made him want to throw up. What was he going to do? It would only be a matter of time before gym class and he felt sure Pierce would arrange some way to ensure he would be alone with him in the changing rooms...

He knew, deep down, that the answer to all of this was to tell someone. Steve or his father. But how could he? How could he stand there and say what happened? They'd be so sickened, so disappointed. They'd hate him for it. 

The thought of suicide reared its ugly head. But how could he do that to them again? What if he failed like he did last time? No, he couldn't. 

Could he?

~*~

George waited for as long as he could which, in the end, turned out to be ten past the hour. Bucky hadn't called him. Trying not to panic completely, he picked up his phone and dialled the home number hoping to god that it was for some superficial reason like Bucky was on the toilet or in the shower and didn't realise the time. 

The phone rang. 

And rang. 

And rang.

He slammed the phone down and leapt up from his chair. Not caring what his boss would say when he found out, George rushed out of the office and down to his car. He needed to get home. As he set off he dialled Sarah's home phone hoping that she was at home. After a couple of rings, she picked up.   
"Sarah is Bucky there?" George asked before she barely finished her 'hello'. 

"No, he's not. Steve's at school today." Sarah replied, concern instantly creeping into her voice. George cursed mentally.  
"I need you to get to my place." George said frantically. "I'm on my way but you can get there quicker. I need you to find out where Bucky is."   
He hung up the phone and tried to calm himself down as best as he could. Driving whilst panicking wasn't a good idea. He'd be no use to Bucky dead. 

A few minutes later, after some frustrating traffic jam near the mall, George arrived at his apartment building. He ran up the stairs taking them two at a time and got to his front door to find Sarah standing there, calling Bucky's name through the mail slot.   
"He's not answering." She explained as George approached. She looked as worried as George felt. He fumbled in his pocket for his keys, pulling them out and unlocking the door.  
"Never should've left him alone." He muttered, half talking to Sarah, half talking to himself. He burst into the apartment, closely followed by Sarah. The two of them quickly searched the rooms and found no sign of Bucky. 

It took all the strength George had not to burst into tears right there and then. He'd known this morning that leaving Bucky alone had been a terrible idea and yet he still had. He let out a growl of frustration.   
"George?" Sarah's hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her. She was holding a folded piece of paper with the word 'Dad' written on it.   
"This was on the fridge." She said by way of explanation. 

With trembling fingers, George unfolded the piece of paper. 

Dad,   
I'm so sorry. I messed up so bad and I've been doing nothing but hurting you all this time. I just want to tell you that you and Steve, the doctors, you're all right. Something really horrible happened to me and I wish that I could tell you what it was. I just can't talk about it. I hope you understand. I know what you're thinking right now and I'm not going to try and kill myself again so please don't worry about that-

"He says he's not going to try and kill himself." George said as he scanned the rest of the note. Sarah patted his shoulder gently. "But it doesn't say where he's gone." 

"Maybe he's gone to meet Steve?" Sarah consulted her watch. "School just finished."   
George nodded hopefully and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He quickly dialled Steve's number. After a few rings he answered.   
"Steve, is Bucky with you?" 

"Sorry Mr Barnes, I haven't seen him at all today." Steve replied. "Why? Is everything alright?" George could hear the worry inching into Steve's voice.   
"He's gone missing Steve." 

END OF CHAPTER TWO


	3. Ugliness - Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for leaving comments, kudos and bookmarking this work! No new warnings to add here. As always, do be careful if you are triggered by mentions of violence and rape.

Ugliness – Chapter Three

George trawled the streets for hours. It proved utterly fruitless. Sarah had taken her car and checked all of the most likely places. Steve had stayed home in the hopes that Bucky would eventually turn up. He'd alerted Peggy and she'd talked her father into helping her search too. While Steve waited, he started to call around the local hospitals to see if there'd been any admissions that could possibly be Bucky. He was also trying Bucky's cell phone regularly but, of course, it was turned off. Every so often, through text messages, they all checked in with each other to see if there was any news. 

There never was. 

Despite all of the searching and all of the phone calls, Bucky was nowhere to be found. He was in none of the places he usually frequented, nor was he wandering the streets. Thankfully, Steve's hospital phone calls had brought up nothing. That was, at least, one saving grace in the frightening situation that was unfolding.   
“Thanks Peggy.” Steve said as he stared out of the window. He hoped that if he stared out there long enough, Bucky would step out of the shadows and into his view. He cradled the phone to his ear with his shoulder and continued to scribble away in his sketchbook. He wasn't really drawing anything worthy of merit. It was mostly Bucky's name, over and over again.  
“I'm sure he'll be ok.” Peggy replied, trying her best to sound reassuring. “You know Bucky. He's strong.” 

“Most of the time I feel like I don't anymore.” Steve admitted sadly. He sighed heavily. “I just want him to be alright. He could be anywhere by now.” He swallowed hard. “Anything could've happened.” He added, feeling bad about putting that fear into words.

“Would you like me to come and sit with you?” Peggy offered. 

“No...it's ok.” Steve looked down at Bucky's name, scrawled over and over again across the page. He felt tears come to his eyes. “Hey I gotta go.” He said quickly. “Gonna make some more phonecalls.” Before Peggy could argue or say goodbye, Steve hung up. He stared out of the window willing his best friend to be there but, of course, he wasn't. He tried his best to ignore the tears that began to fall.

~*~

A couple of hours later, Steve was still sitting in the same place when his mother returned home. The look on her face told him that there was still no news. She informed him that George was still out there looking and she would resume her own search in the morning. She made them both a cup of hot chocolate and tried to, unsuccessfully, chide Steve into his pyjamas.  
“I'm not sleeping.” He said adamantly. “I don't think I could anyway.” 

“I know Honey.” Sarah replied. She looked exhausted. He wondered if he looked as worried and haggard as she did. 

“Why is this happening Mom?” Steve asked suddenly. “It's not fair. Bucky never did anything to hurt anyone! Why's he gotta go through this?” He slammed his cup down on the table next to him. He growled in frustration. “He's my best friend and he's out there and we don't know where! I failed him Mom! First he tries to kill himself and now he runs away and I just-I just let it happen!” He grabbed his jacket from the coat hooks that hung by the front door. “I need to go find him! I can't just sit here knowing that he's alone and hurting.” 

“Steven Grant Rogers you will do nothing of the sort.” Sarah replied sternly. She rose from her chair, ready to grab her son if need be. “I'm not having you out on the streets in the middle of the night.” Her tone softened. “I know you're worried Honey, we all are, but I can't let you go charging off into the night. It's not safe.” 

“What am I supposed to do Mom?” Steve demanded. “Just sit here and wait for the bad news?” He felt tears spring to his eyes. “I've already let him down so much...” 

~*~

“God fucking dammit!” George slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. The frustrations of the night were catching up to him and it didn't help that his car had just run out of gas. He'd been so worried and determined to find Bucky, he hadn't paid attention to the fuel gauge and now he was paying the price. He must've driven around the city at least five times, desperately searching for any sign of his son. He'd stopped where he could and pulled out the tattered photograph of Bucky that he kept in his wallet, showing it to strangers and hoping that somebody, anybody, recognised him. 

But it had all come to nothing and now he was out of the gas. If that wasn't enough, it had also started to rain heavily. If he wasn't on the move, driving around, there was no way he'd find his son and god knows what he might've done to himself. The letter had said he wouldn't but Bucky's moods were so unstable these days George knew that anything was possible. 

He couldn't lose Bucky. His son was his reason for living. His purpose for going to that damned office and the only part of Winnie that he had left. God how he missed her. He felt sure that none of this would be happening right now had she still been here. He was a neglectful, terrible father and the universe seemed determined to prove it to him. He hadn't cried since the night that Bucky had tried to commit suicide but George couldn't help crying hopelessly now as the full weight of recent events came crashing down upon him. The rain pelted the car and George found himself reaching for the teddy bear he'd hastily grabbed on his way out of the apartment. He didn't know why he'd done it. Jefferson wasn't the comforter to him that he'd always been for Bucky but it was the only tangible part of his son that he had right now. He pressed the bear into his face and sobbed. 

~*~

It was almost three am when Sarah had finally managed to convince Steve to go to bed. He was adamant that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to sleep but his mother was equally insistent that he should try. She'd promised that she would wake him up if she heard anything from George. He was staring moodily at a blank sketch book page when he heard a knock at the door. He leapt out of bed and almost tripped up over his own feet as he raced to get to the front door. He yanked it open, his heart in his mouth. 

Bucky stood there, soaked to the skin, his face blotchy with tears. He looked freezing cold and was shivering as he stared mournfully at his best friend. He was dressed in a thin hoodie which was obviously soaked through. Steve grabbed hold of him and pulled him inside. Steve slammed the front door and lead Bucky into the lounge. Bucky moved robotically and allowed Steve to sit him on the edge of the sofa. Steve pulled off Bucky's soaked hoodie and engulfed his best friend in a bear hug.   
“Where the hell have you been?” He cried when he broke the hug. Bucky muttered something that was most likely an apology, refusing to make eye contact. Steve was briefly aware that the rain had soaked through his own pyjamas but he didn't care. All that mattered was the fact that Bucky was still alive and, for now, safe. “Right. You're telling me what's going on right this second.” 

“Honey, maybe we should let Bucky get dry first.”   
Steve jumped and turned around. His mother was standing there, holding out a towel. Bucky made no moves to take it so Steve took it from his mother and started to carefully scrub it through Bucky's dripping hair. The motion seemed to calm him somewhat and Bucky's sobs ebbed away.   
“How about I make some hot chocolate?” Sarah suggested, regarding Bucky with a concerned look. “I'll find you some clean pyjamas too.” 

“Thanks Mom.” Steve put down the towel. He was grateful that his mother seemed to sense that they needed to be left alone. Steve took a hold of Bucky's hands. “C'mon Buck...you've been suffering long enough. You gotta tell me what's going on.”

“S'hard...” Bucky muttered, swallowing hard. He sniffed, still shivering despite the fact that the room was quite warm. He felt chilled to the bone. “So fuckin' hard.” He continued. “Y'know I never wanted...never wanted this to happen but all I can think about is how it must've been my fault.”   
Steve could hear his mother clattering around the kitchen. He wondered if she was trying to block out the sound of Bucky talking. Bucky was staring at Steve's hands.   
“Surely it-it was me? I must've done something wrong because this shit doesn't just happen. So maybe it was cos I shouted in the corridor but why does that mean I had to be made to...to feel so...so fuckin' disgusting and dirty?” He looked up at Steve and Steve could see the pain and desperation in his best friend's eyes. His expression looked expectant as if he were waiting for an answer to his question.   
“Buck, I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about.” He squeezed Bucky's hands tightly. He was hoping he could transfer some of his strength into Bucky. He felt so close to finding out what had caused all of this and he didn't like to think about what might happen if Bucky stopped now. None of them could do this for much longer. “Keep goin' Buck. I'm right here. You're safe.” 

“I-I-can't.” 

“You mentioned shouting in the corridor.” Steve prompted. He thought hard. After a moment or so, it came to him. “Were you talking about that gym class when I went to go meet Peggy? You wanted me to send you an email and you yelled at me down the corridor. I remember that.” 

“Do you...do you remember seeing Mr P-P-Pierce?” Bucky asked. He was very pale and he looked like he was about to throw up.   
“I remember he took the class.” Steve replied. 

“Yeah.” Bucky said shakily. “He was still in the changing room after you left. And he-he-I-” He shook his head as if words were failing him. Slowly and carefully, he lifted up his black t-shirt and revealed the fading yellow bruises across his stomach and hips. Steve let out a gasp.  
“Buck, he hit you?” His face darkened. “He fucking hit you?”   
Bucky shook his head. He swallowed as though there were something stuck in his throat. He pulled his t-shirt back down, hiding the bruises from Steve's gaze.   
“That would've been ok.” He said quietly. “Wouldn't have hurt as much...” 

“What do you mean Buck? You're confusing the hell outta me.” Steve asked. 

“Steve...” Sarah said in a warning tone. She was standing in the doorway. Steve's brow furrowed as he noticed that she had tears in her eyes.   
“He raped me.” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. 

“What did you just say?” Steve had heard his best friend but he hoped to god that he'd somehow misheard. He felt his eyes begin to well with tears. His mother's hand was suddenly on his shoulder.   
“I didn't want it Stevie...” Bucky whined deep in his throat, a soul wrenching noise that was full of pain. Pain that had been kept buried. Steve watched helplessly as Bucky started to sob. Steve instantly released his hands and instead pulled his best friend into his arms, holding him tightly as though he were a barrier between him and the world. He swore right there and then that nobody, least of all Alexander Pierce, would ever hurt his best friend again.

~*~

Since his breakdown over running out of gas, George had realised that sitting and crying over the situation wouldn't find his son any faster. So he'd taken to the streets on foot. It was slower and a hell of a lot more frustrating but it was better than nothing. The rain was still pouring and it meant that his visibility was poor. The streets were absolutely dead. Most people were likely to be in bed at this time. He supposed anyone else had headed for shelter as soon as the rain started to fall. His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, shocking him. He fumbled for it and saw that it was Sarah Rogers' number.  
“Hello?”

“George, he's here.” Sarah's simple reply came. George closed his eyes and silently thanked whoever the hell was up there. Relief flooded through him.   
“How is he?” 

“He's ok.” Sarah sounded uncertain. He heard her hesitate for a moment. “George, there's something that you need to know...”  
George's heart lurched as Sarah explained what had happened since Bucky had arrived at her place. As she finished, tears were streaming down his face. It all made sense now. Why Bucky had been hurting so much. Why he'd been so withdrawn.  
“I'm so sorry George.” Sarah said. 

“Now I know, something can be done.” George replied. “Thank you for calling, I'll be straight round.” 

He hung up the phone and vomited into the gutter. 

~*~

Steve wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his pyjamas. He felt as if he'd been crying non stop since he'd found out what happened to his best friend. He was sitting on the floor beside the sofa. His mother was on the sofa and Bucky, who was now sleeping somewhat fitfully, was stretched out, his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair gently. Her other hand was squeezing her son's hand. There was a knock at the door.  
“That'll be George.”   
Steve nodded and went to answer the door. He returned a moment later closely followed by George. He nodded gratefully at Sarah and, sighing heavily, he leant down and brushed his hand across his son's cheek. Bucky's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at his father looking so young and so vulnerable that it took all of George's inner strength not to burst into tears.   
“You know?” Bucky asked, his voice croaky. He looked up at Sarah who nodded and ran her hand through his hair once more.   
“Yeah.” George reached out and pulled Bucky into a sitting position before wrapping his arms around him. He could hear Steve's sniffles from behind them as he clutched his precious son to his chest. He didn't want to think about how close he'd come to losing him in the past week. Seeing him and holding him made every drop of the tension of the night fade away. His boy was safe. He made a silent vow that he would see to it that his son would never be hurt again.   
“You know.” Bucky repeated sounding as if a huge weight had been lifted from him. George held him closer. “Can...can we got home?” 

“Of course we can.” He lifted his exhausted son into his arms. Bucky normally would've protested against this sort of treatment but he let his head slump against his father's chest, choosing instead to revel into the security it provided. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.” George continued, turning to Sarah.

“Of course.” Sarah replied. “He's family.” She gave George's shoulder a squeeze. “Make sure you call me if you need anything else tonight.” 

“Thanks.” George nodded and headed for the door. As they passed Steve, Bucky reached out his hand and gave his best friend's hand a squeeze. Steve knew what it meant. It was a silent thank you for hearing him out, for finally breaking down his barriers and learning the truth. Steve squeezed back, knowing that Bucky would understand that it meant that it was nothing and that he'd do anything for him.   
“Night Buck.” Steve whispered as George and Bucky left and he closed the front door behind him. He turned around and slowly slid to the floor, dissolving into tears. His mother was beside him in seconds. She didn't speak, she didn't need to. Instead she sat down next to him and wrapped him in her arms, holding him close.

~*~

“Here Son, drink this.” George put a cup of sweet tea in front of his son. There were sitting at the kitchen table which is where they'd been since they arrived home. Bucky dragged the mug closer to him and stared into his depths for moment.  
“Dad?” 

“Yeah?” George sat down opposite Bucky, clutching his own mug of tea which he'd added a much needed tot of whiskey to.   
“Do you...h-h-hate me?” Bucky asked shakily. “Y'know cos...cos of what he did.” 

“Of course not!” George replied. “You said it yourself Son, he did it. You're the one that was hurt. I could never hate you Baby.” He reached out and took hold of his son's hand. “You were hurt in one of the most evil ways and the person who deserves to suffer is that bastard.” His fingers brushed against Bucky's wrist. It felt damp. “Hey, your bandages are soaked.” He continued, feeling the wet crepe material. “Let's get that sorted.” He gave Bucky's hand one more pat before rising from his seat and fetching some clean bandages from the bag the hospital had provided. 

Bucky had forgotten all about his wrists. He'd been too focused on worrying what everyone would think of him now that his secret was out. He felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach as he rested both of his arms on the table in front of him. Slowly and carefully, his father started to cut away the wet bandages. Bucky held his breath. This would be the first time he'd seen his arms since the night he'd tried to kill himself. He studied his father's face as the stitches were revealed along with the deep red lines that were still slightly swollen. He had to give him father credit. His face, for the most part, stayed largely neutral. Although Bucky did catch the slight look of sadness before it was quickly controlled. 

They were silent as George wound fresh bandages around both of his wrists and secured them with some medical tape. Once he was done, he patted them very carefully.   
“All done.” He smiled tiredly. “I think it's time for bed.”   
Bucky didn't argue and allowed his father to lead him to bed. George tucked the blankets around his son and proffered a fluffy creature.   
“Jefferson.” Bucky grabbed the bear, not caring how ridiculous he might look. As if sensing his son's thoughts, George smiled.  
“I'm not going to tell anyone.” He said, planting a kiss on his son's forehead. “Now try to settle down and we'll talk more in the morning ok?” 

“Thanks Dad.” Bucky replied, feeling sleep already dragging him under. 

“Anything for you Son.” George whispered. He stayed in the room until he was certain that his son was completely asleep before retiring back to the kitchen. He decided to forgo his tepid tea and instead poured himself a glass of straight whiskey. As he sipped it he tried to process the events of the night. He'd never had the misfortune of meeting Alexander Pierce but he was sure as hell going to make him rue the day he'd touched his son.

~*~

The next day, George dropped Bucky off at Sarah's place. She had a day off and she, just like him, had decided that her son wouldn't be returning to school until something had been done about Alexander Pierce. Bucky was eager to talk to Steve and George felt better knowing that his son wasn't alone and was in safe hands. He had a job to do. 

He arrived at the high school and demanded to see the Principal. After a brief argument with his secretary, he was finally granted an audience with him although it did mean waiting around for a good hour. Eventually, he was summoned into the office.   
“Mr Barnes. Nice to meet you. I'm Principal Coulson.” The Principal greeted as he shook George's hands. “Do take a seat.” He waited for George to sit down before taking a seat himself. “Now, what can I do for you?” He asked, leaning forward slightly. 

“I need to talk to you about a member of your staff. Mr Alexander Pierce.” George replied. He hadn't had much sleep and had therefore had the whole night to stew on what had happened. He hoped that he wouldn't lose his cool. He took a deep breath and briefly explained the situation. Principal Coulson listened intently and, by the end of George's explanation, looked worriedly unconvinced.   
“Well I'm sorry to tell you Mr Barnes, but I have never in all my years at this institution, heard an allegation such as that being made against a member of my faculty.” He said crisply. 

“I should hope not.” George replied. “My son doesn't lie and I can tell you that he certainly wouldn't make something like this up. As you're aware, he recently tried to commit suicide. Surely that is indicative of a problem?” He took a deep breath, fighting to keep a lid on his temper. Losing it wouldn't help Bucky. “I suggest you ask Mr Pierce yourself.” 

“Ask him?” Principal Coulson raised an eyebrow, a doubtful expression on his face. “Are you asking me to pull a member of staff out of his lesson, disrupting his class, to make an unfounded and serious allegation at him?” 

“Yes.” George said through clenched teeth. “That's exactly what I'm asking.” 

“I'm sorry Mr Barnes but that isn't possible.” Principal Coulson said dismissively. He leant back in his seat, obviously gearing up to ask George to leave.   
“Of course it's possible!” George resisted the urge to bang his fist on the expensive looking oak desk. “You get him in here now or I'll be forced to go straight to the police with the matter. Wouldn't you rather have a chance to get your staff member to explain himself before things are taken completely out of your hands?” 

“Fine.” Principal Coulson sighed heavily. He pressed a buzzer on his desk and informed his secretary to summon Mr Pierce. “Although I will warn you Mr Barnes, I consider Mr Pierce innocent until proven guilty and I will not stand for any violence towards a member of my staff. If you cannot control yourself, you'll leave me with no option but to call the police.”   
George nodded, feeling a vein in his temple pulse. He wondered how one person could be so god damn infuriating and blind to the truth. 

After a moment or two, there was a knock at the door and the secretary led a man into the room who George could only assume was Mr Pierce.   
“Mr Barnes, Mr Pierce.” Coulson said. “Alexander, this is James Barnes' father.” He added as Pierce took a seat next to George.   
“Nice to meet you Sir.” Pierce said smoothly, holding out his hand to shake. When George refused, he frowned slightly, looking to Coulson.

“Now Alex, I'm afraid that the circumstances to which you've been summoned here are unfortunate.” Coulson began to explain. “It seems that James Barnes is accusing you of an assault that is sexual in nature.” 

“Rape.” George verified bluntly, spitting the word at Pierce. 

“Indeed.” Coulson frowned at George. He leant forward once more. “So Alex, what do you have to say on the matter? I'm hoping that we can resolve this without any further unpleasantness.” 

“I have nothing to say Sir.” Pierce replied. He rubbed a hand across his father in an almost theatrical manner. It made George's blood boil. “If you require my version of what occurred that day then unfortunately I cannot as nothing occurred that day.” He continued. “I taught my gym class as usual and that was all that happened. I can assure you that anything else that may be alleged is a total fabrication.” 

“You don't seem exactly taken aback at this situation Pierce.” George growled. “It's almost like you were expecting it.” 

“Honestly Mr Barnes, I'm more surprised that your son would concoct such a tale.” Pierce answered. “He's an intelligent boy and shouldn't feel the need to make up vicious lies for attention.” 

“Liar.” George spat. 

“I'm sorry Mr Barnes but it would appear to me that your son is being extremely manipulative.” Pierce replied dismissively. “Now, if you don't mind Sir.” He said, turning his attention to Coulson. “But I would like to return to my class.” 

“You're not getting away that easily.” George snarled, interrupting whatever it was that Coulson was about to say. He thought back to his conversation with Bucky that morning on the way to Sarah's place. His son had mentioned that a teacher had noticed his depressed attitude and had questioned him about it. He tried to remember the name. “Who takes Bucky for science?” He directed the question as Coulson. 

“I'm unsure.” Coulson replied. “Although I hardly see how-”

“Find out.” George ordered. 

“Mr Barnes-”

“I said, find out. This is important.”   
With a sigh, Couslon turned to his computer and pressed a few keys. After a moment or so he turned back to George.   
“That would be Mr Bruce Banner.” 

“Bring him in here.” George demanded suddenly feeling more positive. He recognised that as the name Bucky had mentioned.   
“Mr Barnes now I really must put my foot down.” Coulson said severely. “I can't be dragging every member of the faculty into this office for what is clearly a false allegation.” He said, motioning to Pierce.   
“It's of no consequence to me Sir.” Pierce said with a carefree shrug. “Perhaps if Mr Banner's input will allay Mr Barnes fears then we should indulge him.”   
George could feel the rage bubbling over as the sheer bare-faced cheek of Pierce. There he was, knowing full well what he'd done, sitting there acting like he was doing him a favour. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to get up from his seat and punch Pierce directly in his smug face.

Coulson let out a heavy sigh but asked his secretary to fetch Mr Banner anyway. He issued a swift warning to George that any further requests to summon staff would be denied with no room for argument. A couple of minutes later, a man George assumed was Mr Banner entered the room.   
“Bruce. Thank you for joining us. This is Mr Barnes.” 

“Bucky's father?” Mr Banner extended his hand and this time, George shook it. This was the man that had attempted to reach out to his child and for that, George would be forever grateful. He may not have gotten Bucky to open up but the fact that he tried was admirable enough. “How's Bucky doing? I heard what happened.” He said sympathetically. 

“Physically he's ok.” George replied. Mr Banner nodded, obviously understanding. 

“So how can I help?” Mr Banner asked, looking between George and Principal Coulson. He seemed to be ignoring Pierce.   
“We're currently discussing an allegation made by James against Alexander here.” Coulson explained. “Mr Barnes requested your presence.” He added, looking expectantly at George.

“Bucky told me you kept him after class to speak to him.” George said. “I was wondering if you could tell me what was said between the two of you?” 

“I'm afraid not very much.” Mr Banner replied. “Bucky seemed withdrawn and nothing like his usual self. Bucky is normally a good student. Not the most focussed but I never have any real problems with him in my classes. When I asked to speak to him it was because I was concerned about the way he was acting. He was obviously distracted and worrying about something. He looked exhausted and troubled and try as I might, he wasn't forthcoming with a reason why. What's the allegation you mentioned?” 

“It's of a grave nature.” Coulson answered dismissively. It was clear that Mr Banner's testimony hadn't changed his mind. George bit back a growl of frustration. “We're trying to establish whether or not there is any credence to James' claims.” 

“Well if you're asking me, I can't see James lying.” Mr Banner said with a shrug. “He doesn't strike me as being dishonest.” 

“Thank you.” George said gratefully. Finally it appeared that he was getting somewhere. Mr Banner nodded at him. Coulson sighed heavily.   
“If it helps at all.” Mr Banner continued. “When I asked Bucky if his problems were school related, he was unable to answer. I at least got a shake of the head when I asked if it was home related but with school, absolute silence.”   
Pierce, who had been silent for this whole exchange, finally spoke up. He leant forward in his seat, looking irritated.   
“And I assume you're trying to attribute that to me?” He said accusingly. 

“Not at all.” Mr Banner replied, still refusing to look in Pierce's direction. “I said nothing of the sort.”  
George couldn't help but smile slightly. It seemed that Mr Banner had caught Pierce on the back foot. He started to allow himself to feel hopeful.   
“Thank you for your opinion Bruce.” Coulson said, noting something down on the pad of paper in front of him. “You can return to your class now.”   
Mr Banner nodded.   
“If I could just see you in private for a moment?” He requested. Coulson nodded and escorted Mr Banner to the office door. They stepped out and a moment later, Coulson returned alone, looking somewhat surprised. He took a seat at his desk and cleared his throat. His entire body language had changed. Where a few moments ago it had been dismissive and irritated, it was now stiff and serious.   
“Given what I've heard today, I'm afraid that I am required to take action in line with educational policy.” He said. “Unfortunately that means I am required to suspend you Alexander. I am also required to involve the authorities.” 

“No problem.” Pierce replied, his cool facade returning. “Involve them. I have nothing to hide.” He added with a shrug.   
“Your suspension shall be with immediate effect.” Coulson continued. “You must leave the school campus immediately and await contact from us. As for you Mr Barnes, the school shall be in touch with you shortly. Unless either of you have anything further to add, I think that concludes our business for today.”   
Both Pierce and George stayed silent. Inside, George felt like crowing. Pierce's suspension was the first step in the long road of getting justice for his son. He watched as Pierce rose from his seat. As he turned away from Coulson, he shot George a dangerous look. There was a deadly glimmer in his eyes and a hint of mild amusement in his smile. George felt his anger bubbling up. The bastard actually looked smug.   
“You don't scare me Pierce.” George snarled. 

“I don't need to scare you Sir.” Pierce replied. He opened the door and left the room. George wrenched it open after him.  
“What the fuck did you say?” He yelled at Pierce's retreating back. 

“Mr Barnes! Control yourself!” Coulson chastised. George closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Punching Pierce wouldn't help matters. He needed to focus on the long term. He closed the office door and turned back to Coulson trying to shake the images in his head that were currently taunting him. Bucky breaking down in the kitchen. Bucky on the bed, his life slowly bleeding out of him. Bucky in tears and he tried to wrestle with his demons and tell him what had happened. George felt sick.   
“Sorry.” He muttered eventually. After all, none of this was Coulson's fault. Even if he didn't immediately believe what had happened. He took another deep breath and tried to control his anger. “Can I ask what changed your mind? You seemed pretty keen to write my son off as a liar.”   
“Mr Barnes, would you like to know what Mr Banner said to me when we left the room?” Coulson asked, his face grave. George nodded. “He said 'nail that bastard'”.

END OF CHAPTER THREE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to, you can check out my Tumblr! 
> 
> mr-barnes-if-ya-nasty


	4. Ugliness Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Apologies for the long wait but returning to work after a period of long-term sickness totally kicked my ass. I'm back now though and hopefully it won't be too long a wait until chapter five. 
> 
> WARNING : There is some victim-blaming later on in this chapter so if this is a trigger, please read with caution.

Ugliness – Chapter Four

The next day, following the suspension of Alexander Pierce, Bucky and Steve returned to school. Now that the threat of seeing Pierce had been eliminated, at least for now, Bucky felt a little easier at being in school and, by the last class of the day, was almost feeling normal again. As normal as Steve would let him be anyway.   
“You can stop staring at me now.” He said grumpily as they packed their bags at the end of the maths lesson.   
“I wasn't starin'” Steve replied, sounding so affronted that Bucky couldn't help but smile at the look on his friend's face. “You wanna come round to my place?” 

“Can't. I'm going to the hospital to get my stitches out.” Bucky said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.   
“I'll come with you then.” Steve said decisively. 

“Dad already offered and I said no.” Bucky replied as they left the classroom. He was trying his hardest not to think about the livid red lines that were beneath the bandages still wrapped around his wrists. He paused for a moment. A thought occurred to him. “Actually Stevie...do you think you could come? I um...I'm not sure I wanna be alone in a strange place, y'know, with someone I don't know.” Bucky said awkwardly.   
“Well you don't have a choice Buddy.” Steve said with a grin. “I was comin' with ya anyway” 

~*~

Bucky sat silently on the stool as the nurse in front of him cut away the bandages. Steve was sitting to his right making sure to remain within his line of sight. Slowly the black stitches were revealed as the bandages were removed. The nurse discarded the bandages and set to work with a small pair of scissors.  
“Now James, this shouldn't hurt but I want you to holler if it does ok?” The nurse said cheerfully as he started removing them. Bucky nodded. He'd hoped that the scars weren't as angry or red as he remembered from when his father had changed his bandages. It seemed, however, that they were even more so. Livid and bright on his pale skin. He screwed up his face. They seemed almost luminous in the stark hospital lighting. 

Steve watched silently. This was the first time he'd seen the results of his best friend's suicide attempt and he didn't like the look of them one bit. It was clear from the length and thickness of them that Bucky had truly meant business when he'd put them there. It made Steve feel sick to think about. He knew how close Bucky had come to death that night. His mother had tried to protect him from the truth but unbeknownst to her, Steve had heard her and George talking when she'd chivvied the older man into getting some coffee. He'd heard Bucky's dad tearfully say that they'd almost lost him. That if he'd been there any longer, he'd have bled to death.   
“See, it's not so bad is it?” The nurse's voice brought Steve back into the present. “Doesn't hurt at all does it?” 

“It does a bit.” Bucky replied quietly. Steve frowned at the nurse. He bristled at the idea of Bucky being subject to any more pain, no matter how slight. His best friend had had enough of that to last a lifetime.   
“We're halfway there.” The nurse said reassuringly. “One down, one to go.” He added, switching to Bucky's left arm.   
“Can't you give him some lidocaine?” Steve asked, remembering the name of the numbing agent that he'd heard his mother mention a few times. 

“You're Sarah's boy aren't you?” The nurse said with a grin. Steve nodded. “By the time it starts to work, we'll be done here. Just a little longer.” 

“Will the scars ever go away?” Bucky asked suddenly, taking both Steve and the nurse aback. He looked pained. Scared. The nurse's face softened into sympathy.   
“They're not always going to be so angry looking but I'm afraid they're always going to be there.” He said gently. Bucky nodded. He already knew that would be the case. He supposed a part of him hoped that he was wrong. “There.” The nurse said after a couple more minutes. “We're all done here.” He put down his scissors and offered Bucky a smile. “You did good.” 

“Thanks.” Bucky replied, rubbing his wrists from a moment before hiding them back under the long sleeved t-shirt he was wearing.   
“Any questions?” The nurse asked as he started to dispose of his equipment. 

“No.” Bucky answered.   
The nurse bade them farewell and Bucky and Steve stepped out into the sunshine. They walked up the road for a moment, Steve kicking an empty soda can.  
“So, where now?” He asked.

“I'm going home.” Bucky replied. He swallowed hard. “Feel safer there.” 

“Home it is then.” Steve said with a grin. 

~*~

When Bucky arrived home, Steve in tow, he found the apartment wasn't empty. His father was there, sitting at the kitchen table looking agitated. Bucky frowned, not used to seeing his father home at this point in the day. He couldn't shake the gnawing anxiety that was suddenly sitting in the pit of his stomach.   
“Dad?” 

“Hey Son.” George smiled tiredly. He nodded at Steve who lurked in the doorway. “How did it go at the hospital?” 

“Fine.” Bucky replied, subconciously tugging at the sleeve of his t-shirt. He hoped his father wouldn't ask to see. “What are you doing home so early?” He asked, figuring it was best to get whatever it was over with as quickly as possible. Something told him whatever it was wasn't going to be good.   
“I went to the police station today.” George said, rubbing the back of his neck. After ensuring that bastard Pierce was away from the school and had no way of harming his son, George's next logical step was the police. “They need you to go down to the station and make a statement.” He added. 

“No.” Was the first word out of Bucky's mouth. It was automatic. It had been bad enough talking to his loved ones about what had happened, let alone perfect strangers. Besides, what could the police do? It had happened. They wouldn't be able to take it away. His shaky new equilibrium was being rocked violently.   
“Now Bucky-”

“No! Dad...I can't. Please. Don't make me. I...I didn't ask you to do that. Why did you do that?” Bucky whimpered. He could feel his chest getting tight. It was getting harder to breathe. The kitchen started swimming before his eyes. He felt the beginnings of tears. He spun on his heel and ran straight for the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it quickly behind him.   
“I knew I should've removed that damn lock.” George muttered.   
Steve shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.   
“You want me to talk to him?” He offered. 

“Can't hurt.” George replied. He offered Steve a smile but it was tight, reserved. He was obviously worried out of his mind. Steve had never seen the older man look so tired and defeated before. He swallowed hard and knocked on the bathroom door.   
“Buck?” He waited for a moment or two. There was no reply. “He a bastard Buck. A real fuckin' piece of work and you know if I could I'd find him and kick his ass but I'm guessin' you don't wanna see me thrown in jail for a dick like him. You gotta do this Buck. It sucks and it'll probably be the hardest thing you're ever gonna do but maybe it'll make things better, knowing that he's somewhere where he can't hurt you again. You deserve to be safe and to not be so hurt and scared all the time.” Steve took a deep breath. “If it was me. You'd tell me to go right?”   
There a sniff and the sound of the lock being turned. Bucky's face appeared as the door opened.   
“That's a cheap shot Rogers.” He grumbled, wiping his eyes furiously with his sleeve. Somewhere down the hall Steve heard George breathe a sigh of relief. “It's just...fuckin'...hard.” 

“I know.” Steve replied, giving Bucky's shoulder a quick squeeze. “But I'm here and so's your Dad and my Mom. We're all here for you Buddy and when that shit gets thrown in jail you're gonna know for a fact that he can't hurt you again.” 

“I'll go.” Bucky said, taking a deep breath. “But you can't use that whole 'if it was me' thing for like a million years.” He added, giving his best friend a light punch on the arm. Steve grinned back at him. For that brief moment he could almost pretend that Bucky was his old self. 

~*~

The local police station was a large, grey imposing building just a short drive away from the apartment. Inside it was cold and sparsely decorated with neutral off beige walls and a muddy brown cord carpet that was going bald in places. Various police officers strolled around, some in uniform, others in shirts and ties. Bucky tried his best to stay calm and he and his father were lead from the front desk through a network of corridors to a room where they were asked to wait until the officer assigned to the case arrived. Despite the odd childish prank, Bucky had never been inside a police station before and, coupled with the knowledge of why he was there, the cold décor made it all the more imposing. Every single one of Bucky's synapses screamed at him to turn tail and run. 

The room they were led to was as plain as the rest of the building and it didn't help Bucky to feel less anxious. The walls were the same off beige and the carpet was a sickly green this time. An old drunk driving poster was on one of the walls, curling at the corners with age. The room had an unsettling and slightly stifling fug of old sweat and carpet. There were four black hard-backed plastic chairs and a little wooden table next to one of them. Bucky and his father took a seat and waited. A minute or two later, two men entered dressed in shirts and ties. The first man was older, with thinning mouse hair and a receding hair line. He was portly and had the air of someone senior. His colleague, who was carrying a notepad and a pen, was shorter and younger with a bald head and wire-rimmed glasses. Both of them looked very grave. They took the seats opposite to Bucky and his father and the younger man took a small voice recorder out of his jacket pocket. He placed it on the wooden table and pressed a button.   
“Right. My name is Detective Stern and this is my colleague, Detective Sitwell.” The older man said. “For the sake of the recording the time is 4:15pm and present are Master James Barnes and his father George Barnes. Case number 32557038. So, James, if you could start by telling us what occurred on the day in question. I believe you're here to discuss a sexual assault?” .

Holding his father's hand all the while, Bucky started to talk about the day his life had changed. He tried to include as many details as possible although he still had a large gap in his memory when it came to the actual moments in the shower area. He trembled throughout his retelling and was finding it hard to hold back the tears. He could feel his father squeezing his hand and that alone gave him the strength to continue and finally end his statement. He felt exhausted when he finished, leaning back in his chair and fighting against a wave of nausea. 

The detective's faces had remained neutral throughout. Now Stern was regarding him in an almost searching way and Sitwell was scribbling on the notepad, obviously noting down everything Bucky had said. Finally, when Bucky finished and Sitwell put down his pen, Stern spoke.  
“Now James, are you absolutely certain that all of this happened as you said it did?”   
Bucky tensed.  
“Yeah, of course I am.” He replied with a furrow brow. He didn't like the way that this was going. He felt the muscles in his father's hand tense. 

“As long as you're sure.” Stern said carefully. “I'm sure that I don't have to remind you that a man's livelihood and reputation are at stake here. A false accusation could-”

“I'm not lying.” Bucky interrupted fiercely. 

“Let me finish James.” Stern replied strictly. He was eyeballing Bucky now, obviously looking for any signs that he might consider to be proof of Bucky's 'lies'. “As I was saying, a false accusation could have very serious consequences for yourself also. If we were to discover that you were lying to us-”

“I just said didn't I?” Bucky suddenly yelled angrily. “I'm not lying!” 

“Detective Stern-” George said in a warning tone as Bucky got to his feet. He gently pulled his son back into his seat.   
“I'm not lying.” Bucky repeated. 

“Then perhaps you would like to explain why an educator of excellent moral standing would risk his entire career to rape a boy? It seems to me that it's a rather unlikely scenario given Mr Pierce's long service to education.” Stern asked, sounding as though his mind had already been made up.   
“Why don't you ask him?” Bucky shot back bitterly. 

“Excuse me.” George interrupted. “But what does my son's gender have to do with this?” He asked fiercely.   
“Well Mr Barnes, I'm sure you can appreciate that most rape cases we deal with are those in which the victim is female.” Sitwell replied. “Forgive me for saying but this situation is highly irregular.” 

“You son of a-” 

“What I have to question James is why didn't you talk to us sooner?” Stern continued, speaking over George. “When it would've been possible to obtain some forensic proof? Why delay reporting such a serious crime?” He continued. George fidgeted in his seat, resisting the urge to start yelling himself. Nothing would please him more than to put Stern in his place and give the slimy bastard a good right hook. Sitwell too if he was being honest. However spending a night in the cells and an assault charge wouldn't do anything to help his son. Instead he had to sit back and try and keep his emotions in check whilst this man cruelly grilled his child.  
“I was scared.” Bucky said quietly. “Scared of him.” He looked down at the carpet noticing, for the first time, a coffee stain just under the table. 

“Surely tellling someone like your father would've helped with that fear?” Stern suggested. 

“I couldn't...” Bucky whispered, eyes still on the stain. His anger had faded away and had been replaced with the all encompassing fear. The all-consuming ugliness that made him realise that no matter what he did, he would be forever damaged goods.   
“Perhaps because you needed to work out the intricacies of your lie?” 

“This isn't an intricacy.” Bucky said quietly as he slowly pulled up the sleeves of his t-shirt. He turned his wrists so they were face up. The scars looked horribly red and angry underneath the stark lighting. “I told you. I'm not lying.” He felt himself crumple. Whatever it was that had allowed him to get this far through the interview, had disappeared. He got to his feet and ran from the room. He didn't care where, he didn't even know, he just needed to get out. He had been right all along. He never should've come.  
“Bucky!” George yelled, leaping up from his chair.

“Live one isn't he?” Sitwell said with a raised eyebrow. George ignored the urge to slam him into the wall and ran after his son. 

Bucky raced down corridor after corridor blindly. He had no idea where he was going or where the exit was. All around him, police officers were staring at him. Tears were streaming down his face and he was sobbing loudly. Then he realised. He was alone. Without his father.   
“Dad?” He screamed. He wasn't safe without his father. He stopped in his tracks and quickly turned on his heels. He raced back in what he thought was the direction of the interview room but he didn't recognise any of his surroundings. Everything looked the same. Imposing. Scary. Unfamiliar.

He collided with a large body. Arms wrapped around him and Bucky instantly recognised the comforting smell of cigarettes and his father's aftershave. He buried himself in his father's sweater.   
“I've got you Baby. I've got you.” 

~*~

“I wouldn't have taken you if I'd have known they were going to be like that.” George spoke first when they were safely out of the police station and back in the car. He turned to look at his son who was staring straight ahead at the grubby windscreen. He hadn't said a word since George had found him in the corridor. “It's not your fault Bucky. I don't want you to start blaming yourself.” George continued. “We can talk to someone else. Those men...they were disgusting and you better believe I'll be putting in-”

“Can I go to Steve's?” Bucky interrupted suddenly. He still wasn't making eye contact which George knew was a bad sign. Still, if Bucky wanted to see his best friend then maybe things weren't all bad.  
“Yeah, of course son.” George replied as he started the car. With a bit of luck, Sarah would also be at home. If there was one thing George could do with right now it was a friendly ear. A strong whiskey or two wouldn't go amiss either. 

~*~

Steve grinned as he fired the final arrow which would become the killing blow on the Frost Dragon. He'd originally picked up Skyrim to use as a distraction from worrying about Bucky and what was going on at the police station but he'd found himself getting into the game. It was a welcome distraction. He was just about to loot the now-dead dragon's body when his bedroom door was flung open and then slammed suddenly. A blur hurled itself at his bed and landed face down on his duvet.   
“Bucky?” Steve dropped the Xbox controller and spun round on his office chair to face his friend.   
“Fuck off Steve.” Bucky mumbled into the sheets. 

“Um...You came into my room.” Steve pointed out. “What happened at the police station?” 

“Didn't believe me.” Came the muffled reply. 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” Bucky lifted his head. His eyes were red rimmed and his eyelids looked sore and puffy. “They didn't fucking believe a word I told them.” He spat bitterly. 

“How could they not?” Steve asked incredulously, momentarily wrong-footed. A horrible crime had been committed against his best friend and they were accusing him of being a liar? He didn't get it. The police were supposed to help him, not hurt him.   
“I didn't even wanna fucking go.” Bucky continued as if Steve hadn't spoken. He thumped the mattress beneath him, raising up onto his knees. “I didn't wanna fucking do it and this was why! They made me tell the whole fucking story and then they called me a fucking liar! You believe me right?” Bucky asked fiercely. 

“Of course I do.” Steve replied. He reached out to touch his best friend but Bucky pulled away so violently that he almost banged his elbow on the wall. “Buck..” 

“Why didn't he kill me Steve?” Bucky demanded. His eyes filled with tears. “Why the fuck didn't he kill me? I mean, Jesus fucking Christ...look at me! Look at what I am now! I fucking hate this shit! I'm sick of crying all the fucking time. Sick of this ugliness inside of me never letting me forget that it's there...I wish...I wish I was fucking dead!” He thumped the mattress over and over again as he spoke, tears dripping from his cheeks as he punched harder and harder.   
“Buck...Bucky, it's ok.” Steve said, feeling as though he were flailing wildly for something to say. He'd never seen his best friend this angry before. Seeing him that way made Steve's own rage bubble up but he knew he needed to keep a lid on it for now. “Hey...uh...you remember that time Rumlow was tryin' to show off and we-”

“I don't wanna remember dumb shit we did ages ago Stevie! I'm not that guy anymore and I never fucking will be again!” Bucky yelled, furiously wiping his eyes. He was breathing heavily from the exertion of repeatedly punching the bed. “Did you not hear me? They thought I was fucking lying! And you know what that means? It means HE'LL be coming back to school! All that shit you told me earlier about being safe, well, it ain't gonna happen now is it?” Bucky buried his face back in the duvet again. 

“Well maybe...” Steve took a deep breath. “Maybe you could switch schools? I mean, I don't wanna see you leave school and all but maybe it's the best thing to do until something gets sorted out?” He said, pushing down any selfish feelings about himself and Bucky not being in the same school anymore. It'd be like losing a limb. He didn't even really want to think about it. 

“No.” Came the muffled yet adamant reply. He looked up at Steve, his eyes heartbreakingly sore looking. “No. I can't do that. What if he decides to hurt you? or Peggy? or any of our friends? I can't let that happen...can't let you know what this feels like, how much it hurts. If he's gonna do it again, it should be me. I'm already tainted so it doesn't matter does it?”. He sniffed and wiped his eyes once more, a small sliver of defiance glistening in his eyes. Steve recognised that look. It meant that his best friend's mind was made up. 

“Bucky. Buck, you're not tainted. Not at all. He's the tainted one. Damn Asshole. If Pierce even thinks about laying a hand on Peggy, or anybody for that matter, I'll deck him myself." Steve replied fiercely.   
“I'm not letting you get hurt Stevie.” Bucky said. 

"But you got hurt Buck. I got no right to sit by while my best friend is hurt. No right. I gotta do somethin'.” Steve replied determindly. He was done sitting back and watching while his best friend suffered. If the police couldn't do anything then he'd simply have to take matters into his own hands. No matter what.   
“Steve I know that look” Bucky said in a warning tone. “What are you thinking of doing?” 

“I don't know...deck him during gym class?” Steve replied desperately. At this, Bucky's mouth twitched like he was going to smile before he shook his head. He sniffed and wiped his eyes again.   
“I hope that was your attempt at cheering me up Stevie cos no offence, but you couldn't punch your way out of a paper bag.” 

“Hey, I had Schmidt on the ropes during boxing! I could do it!” Steve said, puffing out his chest.   
“Ok, now I know you're trying to cheer me up.” Bucky sat up properly and swung his legs over the side of bed. “He kicked your ass. Almost sent you to the nurses office.” 

“It wasn't that bad.” 

“Well yeah, he coulda given you a nosebleed that lasted the WHOLE of math class” 

END OF CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Ugliness Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! Moving to a new country and the Stucky Big Bang got me distracted. If you haven't read it yet, feel free to check out my Stucky Big Bang 2016 fic '4F' which I've posted to my account! 
> 
> Please take note that this chapter contains drug references so if this is a trigger for you, take care! 
> 
> As always, if you'd like to, come and find me on tumblr and talk Stucky to me!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mr-barnes-if-ya-nasty
> 
> Enjoy Chapter Five!

A week passed before the police contacted George to inform him that they were officially dropping Bucky's case due to lack of evidence. Despite his very vehement protests, it seemed that there was nothing more they were willing to do unless some form of hard evidence was produced. Detective Stern had gone on to explain that this would be very unlikely considering that Bucky had long ago washed away any physical evidence.   
“I'm sorry Son.” George had taken the day off from work and had been waiting for Bucky when he returned home from school. They'd sat at the kitchen table and he had shared the horrible news.   
“Was expecting it.” Bucky mumbled, staring down at the table-top. It was old and stained with rings of coffee. He picked at a dried ketchup blob as he spoke. 

“And you understand what that means?” George asked, thoroughly concerned.

“Yeah.” Bucky answered. “He'll be allowed back to school.” He sighed heavily. “Can I go to my room now?” 

“Honestly Son, I'd prefer it if you didn't.” George replied. Bucky had become increasingly withdrawn as the week had passed and George was terrified at what that could mean. He'd privately logged back on to the parental chat a couple of times to ask for advice and all that they could tell him was that he needed to be there for his son and to support him through what was obviously a terrible miscarriage of justice.   
“M'not gonna do anything.” Bucky said. “Just wanna read or somethin'.” 

“You can read in the lounge.” George replied, leaving nothing open for argument. 

Even if Bucky wanted to argue, he just simply didn't have the strength any more. Ever since his experience at the police station, he'd felt even stranger than before. There was no sadness or anger, there was just nothing. His feelings seemed to have disappeared into a black hole leaving behind nothing but a peculiar numbness. Even the Ugliness, with its taunting voice and hateful words seemed to have been silenced. Bucky wasn't sure which he preferred. The realisation that he would soon be expected to walk the halls with Pierce again had hit him full force that night and, after crying his heart out to Steve, he knew what he would have to do. He couldn't let Pierce hurt anyone he cared about, not Steve, not Peggy, none of his friends. If he dropped out of school then that would leave them open to the same sort of pain he'd been put through. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen.   
“M'going back to school.” He added as his father got up to prepare some more coffee. “Even though...he's...there.” 

“What?” George frowned. That hadn't been the reaction he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting kicking and screaming and, god forbid, something a hell of a lot worse. “I'm not sure that's for the best Son.” He continued as he set the kettle on the stove top. “I was thinking we could maybe find you another school or perhaps try home-” 

“No!” Bucky exclaimed. George turned around to regard his son's suddenly fierce expression. 

“Bucky-” 

“No!” Bucky shouted. “NO! You don't understand! I have to go back there. I have to!” Bucky stood up quickly, knocking the chair over in his haste. There were tears in his eyes. “You don't understand.” He repeated. 

“Then help me to Son.” George abandoned the coffee and tried to embrace his child. “We can make sure you never have to see him again. We can make sure you're safe.” 

“I need to go back. I have to go back.” Bucky said, rejecting his father's touch. He wanted nothing more than to sink into his father's arms and be comforted. He knew that his father would do anything in his power to ensure he never had to walk those corridors again if he didn't want to. But it wasn't a case of what he wanted. It was what he needed to do. Pierce was a monster. A sick, twisted monster and Bucky would do everything he could to make sure that Steve was safe from him. He was too damaged to really matter any more, too contaminated, but Steve Rogers was pure and it would be a cold day in Hell before Bucky let anyone try to change that. 

~*~

Steve was concerned. Very concerned. Ever since Bucky had broken down in his bedroom, he'd barely heard from him. Usually they'd either be hanging out at each other's apartment or, at the very least, texting each other. But, since that night, nothing. It wasn't for want of trying either. Bucky wasn't responding to Steve's numerous texts, nor was he replied to his instant messages or accepting his Xbox Live game requests. Steve had tried calling but Bucky's phone never seemed to be switched on. He had no joy from the land line either. 

Finally unable to bear it any long, he'd walked round to Bucky's apartment. A weary looking George answered the door. He looked as though he hadn't been sleeping very well. He seemed surprised to see Steve standing there.   
“Steve? Is everything ok?” 

“Um...well, actually, I was wondering if I could see Bucky. He's-” He was about to launch into a watered down description of his attempts to contact his best friend but George interrupted.  
“He's not with you?” A look of panic crossed the older man's face. “He told me he was going to your apartment..”   
Steve felt his stomach drop to his feet. Bucky's father was obviously sharing his thoughts as his face suddenly paled.   
“I..I think you'd best come in.” He stuttered. 

Steve was about to close the front door behind him when he heard footsteps coming along the corridor. Bucky approached him, looking sullen, his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans.   
“Buck!”   
Bucky looked up, frowning when he noticed Steve standing in the doorway to the apartment. He cursed inwardly releasing that his lie had been exposed. He trudged towards the door, not wanting to face his father. Steve was watching him with that all too familiar concerned gaze of his.   
“Steve, I know you're happy to see Bucky but I need to talk to him.” George said sternly as soon as Bucky appeared in the doorway. Steve nodded. George's arms were clamped across his chest and he was regarding his son with an expression that Steve could probably only describe as 'angry relief'. “I'll make sure he calls you tonight.” He added. 

“I'll talk to you later Buck.” Steve said, giving Bucky's upper arm a quick squeeze on the way past. His best friend was refusing to meet his eyes, instead choosing to stare at the collection of shoes in the hallway. 

“So.” George began as soon as Steve had shut the front door behind him. “What happened tonight?” 

“Nothin''” Bucky shrugged. His eyes still downcast. 

“You lied Son.” George continued. Bucky didn't need to look up at his father to know what expression he'd be wearing. It would almost certainly be the look of disappointment, the one that never failed to make him feel like shit.   
“I just didn't want you worrying.” Bucky mumbled. “I just wanted a walk on my own that's all.” 

“You know you're not allowed out on your own.” George said, with a sigh. “Especially after-” 

“You're never gonna let me forget it are you?” Bucky suddenly yelled. “I fuck up one time and that's it? Permenant lockdown?” He kicked out at the pile of shoes in the hallway, sending a couple flying.   
“Son-” 

“No! I'm sick of it! Just leave me alone! I'm not gonna fucking kill myself!” Bucky screamed as he turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway. Seconds later he slammed his bedroom door shut. George closed his eyes, cursing quietly. 

~*~

Bucky resisted the urge to kick his door. Instead, he chose to fling himself on the bed, dislodging his phone as he did so. One quick glance at the screen told him he had numerous missed calls and Whatsapp messages from Steve. He knew he should reply, especially since he'd been effectively ignoring his best friend for the last few days, but he didn't trust himself to keep quiet about where he'd really been. 

Bucky listened carefully for any sounds of his father, feeling a stab of guilt at the way he'd acted. His rage had come upon him so quickly and unexpectedly and it had died away just as fast. He knew what he'd done to his father when he'd tried to kill himself but even though he'd yelled it, he'd been honest when he'd said that he didn't have any intention to kill himself, he just hadn't said the reason why. If he could end his life then he would. He was nothing anymore, a ruined, damaged shell of James Barnes. But, if he did die then who would be there to protect Steve? Ever since he'd been told about the police verdict on Pierce, he'd been plagued by nightmares. Horrific, sickening nightmares about the locker room. They were so realistic that he could smell the scent of sweat and cheap roll on deodorant. He could hear the monotonous dripping of the leaky shower heads. He could see Pierce's hungry smile, his leathery hands reaching out. But it wasn't him that Pierce was reaching for, it was Steve. He was forced to stand idly by and watch as the older man loomed over his best friend, eyes glinting with sickening lust. 

Bucky rummaged in his pockets, eager to shake away those images in his head. His fingers curled around what he was looking for and he withdrew the small plastic bag. He held it in his open palm looking at the little white tablets that were contained within it. It hadn't been easy but he had a rough idea, via school rumours, of where Rumlow and Rollins liked to hang out after school. He'd walked around the streets for half an hour before he located what he believed was the correct park. Sure enough, Rumlow and Rollins were by the kiddie playground with a few other kids that Bucky didn't recognise. Rumlow had seemed mildly impressed by Bucky's request and had handed him the bang on the proviso that Bucky give him all the money he currently had in his wallet. Willing to numb the constant taunting voice of the ugliness in his head, Bucky had handed the cash over, leaving Rumlow to turn his attentions back to one of the other kids who was hooting with laughter as he tied one of the swings in knots. 

~*~

George leant against the kitchen sink, desperately trying to appear outwardly confident. He could hear Bucky in his bedroom, clattering about as he got ready for school. George took another sip of his coffee although it had long since gone cold. Although Bucky had been attending school regularly for a while now, today would be the first day that Pierce would be back teaching. God, how it made his blood run cold to think that that monster would be allowed to freely roam the school corridors again. It made him want to march down there and tear the evil bastard limb from limb. Despite the police's unwillingness to take the matter further, George had made a vow that he would do everything in his power to bring Pierce to justice.   
“Morning.” He forced a bright smile on his face as Bucky emerged from his bedroom looking a little rumpled. They hadn't spoken since Bucky had stormed off the previous night. Sensing his son needed some time to himself, George had resisted the urge to enter his bedroom and try and get him to talk. Instead he'd stayed awake listening for any sounds of distress. Finally, at around midnight, George had given him and carefully opened Bucky's bedroom door to find his son asleep. 

He did a double take as Bucky walked into the kitchen. He was wearing an old black t-shirt and ripped, faded black jeans that George hadn't seen for months. The t-shirt was so old that it was almost grey from repeated washes.   
“Haven't seen those in a while.” He commented, nodding at the outfit. It took him back to a year or so ago when Bucky, along with Steve of course, had gone through a punk phase. Bucky's bedroom wall had been plastered with images of 1970's punk singers and he'd taken to wearing all black with the occasional skull motif. Eventually he and Steve had moved onto another fad and George assumed the old 'punk' clothes had been thrown out or otherwise lost. Apparently not. Bucky shrugged at his father's comment and helped himself to a cup of coffee.  
“I've spoken to your principal and we both agreed that you should take study hall instead of gym class.” George continued. 

“What about Steve?” Bucky asked. “Is he excused too?” 

“I'm not sure.” George replied, noting the sudden look of anxiety on his son's face. “Although I imagine that Sarah has certainly tried.” He glanced at his watch. “Since you're obviously not meeting up with Steve today, how about a ride to school?”   
Bucky nodded. 

~*~

“Steve honey, you're going to be late.” Sarah said as she bustled about the kitchen tidying up the breakfast remains. Usually that was Steve's job but, over the past few days, her son had been distracted. He'd taken to sitting with his phone in his hand and religiously checking the screen every so often. He'd also repeatedly checked that the phone in the hallway still had a dialling tone by lifting the receiver whenever he walked past it. Sarah hadn't asked and Steve hadn't told her but she knew that it had something to do with Bucky. She'd never seen her son so forlorn before, drifting about the house as though he were a sad, pale ghost.   
“I'm waiting for Bucky Ma.” Steve replied stubbornly as he stared out of the kitchen window. He'd started his vigil about half an hour ago, perching on the counter top, so that he had the best view possible. He dangled his old blue backpack between his legs, playing with the strap agitatedly.   
“I don't think he's coming.” Sarah said sympathetically. She picked up her phone and gave George a quick text to see whether or not he'd given Bucky a ride to school. “I imagine that he got a ride today.” She added gently. 

Steve nodded. He didn't need reminding why. With a sigh, he leapt down off the counter and shouldered his backpack, heading for the door. His hand had just touched the doorknob when Sarah spoke.  
“Steven Grant Rogers. Stop. Turn around.” She wiped her hands on a nearby dish towel and approached her son. “Now I know he's your best friend but I need you to stay safe OK? No fights. I want you to stay away from that evil man and if he comes anywhere near you, you run away.” She continued firmly. She hated the fact that her son was attending the same school as Pierce but there was very little she could do about it. The other local schools were all oversubscribed and money was too tight to allow her to pay for a home school tutor. She could only hope that something would be done and soon. She hadn't discussed it with George yet but she had decided to speak to some of the other parents and arrange some form of protest. If enough parents raised an objection then, she hoped, Coulson and the school board would be forced into some kind of action. Until that happened, she just had to hope and pray that her child remained safe. “You're not to take gym class. I've arranged for you to study in the school library. George tells me that he's done the same for Bucky so you can study together.” She gently chucked Steve under the chin. “Any sign of trouble for either of you, you run. You find a teacher and you call George or me, understand?” 

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I promise Ma.” He added solemnly. “I love you.” 

“Love you too honey.” Sarah replied as Steve headed out of the apartment.

~*~

Ever since they'd started high school, Steve and Bucky would always hang out in the quad by the art department. Bucky liked to lounge on one of the stone benches as he told Steve all about his future plans to make it as a famous rock star. Steve liked to sit and sketch the various flowers that grew there. The biggest bonus of the location was that the bike sheds, where Rumlow and his cronies chose to hang out, were all the way across the other end of the campus. Although, Steve supposed with a heavy heart as he approached the quad, Rumlow was the least of their problems now. 

It came as a surprise when it wasn't Bucky that was sitting on the stone benches, it was Peggy. She looked as though she'd been waiting for him. She was smiling but there was something a little off about her smile, it looked...guarded.   
“I heard the news.” She said as Steve sat down beside her. “It's not right.” She added acidly as she shook her head. Her pretty brown curls bounced around her face. “I tried speaking to my Dad about it but he said with no evidence there's nothing the police can do but it just doesn't seem right that that's the end of the matter.”  
Steve nodded in agreement. But what could they do? He certainly had to admire Peggy's sense of right and wrong. With a pathologist mother and a journalist father, curiousity and a dogged determination to get to the truth came naturally to her. She gave Steve a sideways look. One that Steve recognised as her concerned look. “You seem distracted.” She said quietly. “Not that I blame you in the least.” She added as she gave his hand a quick squeeze. 

“It's Bucky.” Steve admitted, staring down at her elegant white hand with its perfectly shaped nails painted with scarlet polish. “I've barely spoken to him since the police dropped his case. I waited for him this mornin' but he never showed up so I was kinda hopin' he'd be here waitin' for me.” He toed the dirt with his sneaker. He looked up at Peggy who was biting the corner of her lip, obviously debating whether or not to speak. “What is it?” 

“Well, Angie said she saw Bucky this morning on her way to school.” Peggy replied. She sighed and gave Steve's hand another quick squeeze. “He was with Rumlow and Rollins.” 

“What?” Steve leapt to his feet, immediately incensed. “What were they doing to him? What were they saying?” He clenched his fists. “Were they by the bike sheds?! I'll kick their asses!” He raged. Forgetting all about the promise of 'no fights', Steve started to march off in the direction of the bike sheds. He knew he should've gone to Bucky's apartment that morning. Why had he sat on his ass and waited for Bucky to come to him? Now it looked like Bucky was in trouble and once again he wasn't there. At least he could do something about Rumlow and Rollins.   
“Steve!” Peggy was suddenly by his side, her hand on his shoulder, trying to slow him down. “Angie said that Bucky was WITH them.” She explained. “They were smoking and laughing together.” 

“What?” Steve spluttered, so wrong-footed that he stopped in his tracks. “Bucky doesn't smoke! And he sure as hell doesn't hang out and laugh with Brock Rumlow!”   
“I'm sorry Steve.” Peggy replied sympathetically. “But it looks like he does.” 

END OF CHAPTER FIVE!


	6. Ugliness Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with yet another massive delay guys! I've not been doing so great mentally but FINALLY I got my ass into gear and wrote this next chapter. Enjoy!

Ugliness – Chapter Six

 

It was break time before Steve finally managed to catch up with Bucky. He'd shared a class with Rollins but Steve was sure as hell that he wasn't going to ask him if what Peggy had said was true. After checking up on a few of their usual places, including the quad, Steve finally located Bucky by the cafeteria vending machines just as his friend was buying a soda.  
“Buck!”

“Oh, hey Stevie.” Bucky said casually as he popped open his can. Steve blinked, slightly taken aback by Bucky's flippant attitude. He was also shocked by his best friend's appearance. Steve remembered their punk phase fondly but he didn't remember Bucky expressing an interest in dressing in his old clothes again. He shook his head, refusing to be distracted, what Bucky was wearing didn't really matter. Steve had more important things to worry about.

He resisted the urge to bombard him with questions about the past few days and, instead, fell into step with him as they headed outside. Bucky didn't seem to be offering much in the way of conversation as they walked along. Instead he chose to swig from the soda can and cast his eyes anywhere but in Steve's direction. Steve was having trouble resisting the urge to demand his answers and, as it happened, they only made it halfway to the quad before the words spilled out in a clumsy rush.  
“Angie said she saw you with Rumlow this morning and Peggy said that she said that you were smokin' and laughin' with him.” He gabbled as they walked. After a minute or so, Bucky drained his can and tossed it into a nearby bin. He looked as though he wanted to say something, like something was itching to get out of him, but instead he just shrugged.  
“No idea where she got that from.” He said flippantly. “You know what a gossip Angie is. Probably just got bored or somethin'” 

“I guess.” Steve replied pensively, casting a glance at Bucky who seemed to be resistant to making eye contact with him still. “I mean, I don't get why she'd make somethin' like that up an' then tell-” 

“Well she obviously did.” Bucky snapped, surprising Steve at the sudden viciousness of his tone. Bucky had never spoken to him like that before, not in all their years of friendship and it left Steve feeling completely wrong-footed. He stared at the toes of his old Converse sneakers, unsure of what to say or do next. Bucky suddenly took a sharp left turn and, reflexively, Steve did the same. Bucky stopped in his tracks and wheeled around, fixing Steve with a horrible and uncharacteristically unfriendly glare.  
“You don't hafta follow me everywhere you know.” He spat. At this, he stalked off quickly leaving Steve to wonder what the hell had just happened between them. 

~*~

“Well hey there Barnes.” Rumlow's smirk was snake-like as Bucky approached him. He'd found Rumlow in his usual spot, hanging around in the bike sheds. Since not many students cycled to school it was a quiet area, less likely to be visited by whatever teacher was on break duty that day, therefore perfect for Rumlow and his cronies needs. Rumlow himself was leaning against one of the support posts, taking deep drags from his cigarette. Rollins and another kid, Sitwell if Bucky remembered rightly, were laughing like mad as they both drew crude drawings of topless women on the shed wall opposite.  
“What you gave me didn't work.” Bucky said through gritted teeth, looking around to make sure nobody was in earshot. The last thing he needed was another Angie Martinelli gossip chain.  
“Yeah, you said that this morning.” Rumlow shrugged. “So what?” He held out his hand and, automatically, Bucky withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his backpack and handed them over.  
“You said if I took them all I'd...y'know, get high.” 

“Eh, guess I fucked up the dose.” Rumlow said casually. He took another drag from the cigarette and smirked at Bucky. “It's not always easy to get it right first time. Tell you what, come to the park if you wanna get fucked up with us.” He offered, nodding at Rollins and Sitwell. “Won't cos you a dime. Kinda like a peace offering.” 

“What time?” Bucky found himself asking without really thinking about it. 

“Now.” Rumlow replied as if Bucky had asked him a particularly stupid question. “I've only got Math next and I swear the teacher is so fucking dumb she won't even notice.” He added. “We do it all the time, don't we guys?” 

“Yeah.” Rollins replied encouragingly. “Nobody ever notices.” He nudged Sitwell who shook his head emphatically. 

Bucky found himself agreeing to this as well. He'd never ditched a class before but since he only had the unofficial study hall next period, he didn't figure that it mattered that much. Besides, he was so on edge about the possibility of bumping into Pierce that the idea of getting out of his head for a while was way more appealing than sitting in a library and pretending that he was still normal enough to study and get on with things. Something designed to take the edge off would definitely make functioning like an actual person a whole lot easier.  
“What the hell are we waiting for then?” He asked, mirroring Rumlow's grin. 

~*~

Steve glared at the face of his watch as if it were to blame for Bucky's no show. Their specially arranged study hall period had started ten minutes ago and it wasn't at all like Bucky to be late. The library was quiet aside from a couple of other students who were sitting at the bank of computers, chatting quietly to one another. The librarian was at her desk, sipping from a mug and writing. Steve checked the library doors again, briefly wondering how many times he'd done that within the last ten minutes.

He tapped his pen on the desk and resisted the urge to check his watch again. Instead, he glanced at the librarian again to check that she was fully immersed in her writing before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. Taking care to keep it out of sight under the desk, he typed a quick message and sent it to Bucky.

WHERE R U?

It occurred to him that it wasn't that long ago that he wouldn't have needed to even ask that question at all. Bucky would've been sitting next to him and they would've been mixing studying with laughing at whatever stupid shit Rumlow had pulled in class that day. In just a few short weeks, it felt like they'd gone from being best friends who instinctively knew what the other was feeling, to Steve feeling like Bucky was drifting away from him at a rate of knots. He heard the doors open and shoved his phone back into his pocket quickly.  
“Steve.” Mr Banner smiled at him. He was carrying a couple of books under his arm. “I heard you and James were studying in here.” He continued as he approached the desk. “I brought you a couple of astronomy books that I thought you'd like to have a look at.” He patted the spines of the books and looked around, frowning. “Where's James?” 

Steve felt his blood run cold. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't about to tell Mr Banner the truth but, at the same time, it was blatantly obvious that Bucky wasn't around considering there was no other backpack or study materials next to him. Mr Banner appeared to sense Steve's awkwardness as he continued, effectively letting Steve off the hook.  
“I'll just leave them here anyway.” He put the books down on the desk before looking around to make sure he and Steve had a little privacy. “Steve, I wonder if you've spoken to anyone about the recent events.” 

“What?” Steve blinked, taken aback. Why would he need to talk to someone? He wasn't the one that Pierce...well, it didn't happen to him. “It happened to Bucky.” He said out loud without meaning to. Mr Banner offered him a kind smile.  
“And you and everyone else around him have done an excellent job of supporting him but, sometimes the supporters need someone to talk to as well.” He explained. “No pressure but if you want to talk you know where my room is. I'm in there most afternoons after school and I'm always willing to be a friendly ear.” 

“Thanks Mr Banner.” Steve replied. “That's real kind of you. I'll keep it in mind.” 

“That's all I ask.” Mr Banner said with a smile. He gave Steve a quick pat on the shoulder. “Well, I have a class to get to. Happy studying!”  
Steve nodded and watched him leave the library. His studying was going to be anything but happy. 

~*~

By the end of last period, Steve felt as though he was going to go insane with worry. Bucky hadn't answered any of his furtive text messages nor had he answered the phone when Steve had called him multiple times inbetween classes. By the time that final bell trilled, Steve was surprised that he had any fingernails, or patience, left. He looked up and down the hallway helplessly wondering what to do next. 

He spotted an all-too-familiar face further down the hallway, leaning against a locker. Steve automatically pulled a face. Normally he avoided Jasper Sitwell like the plague. He was a friend of Rumlow which officially made him an Asshole By Association. However, if what Angie said was true, a friend of Rumlow might know something about Bucky's whereabouts. Steve supposed it was a testament to his utter desperation that he was about to strike up a conversation with him.  
“The fuck do you want Rogers?” Sitwell demanded as Steve approached him. Steve had to bite back the acidic reply that threatened to come out of his mouth.  
“Have you seen Bucky?” He asked instead, resisting the urge to smack Sitwell straight in his smug, smirking face. He figured doing that wouldn't help matters.  
“Lost your boyfriend?” Sitwell replied looking immensely proud of himself as if he'd created the wittiest of witty rejoinders. 

“Have you seen him or not?” Steve said, severely irritated now. “I heard he's been hangin' out with Rumlow.” He added through clenched teeth. He hoped amongst hope that it still wasn't true but the sick, sinking feeling in his stomach begged to differ.  
“Yeah, s'been pretty funny actually!” Sitwell grinned. “They're probably still at the park.” He added with a shrug. And, with that, Sitwell turned and walked away yelling to one of his cronies that Steve didn't recognise. Still, it didn't matter because now Steve had somewhere to start. 

~*~

By the time he approached the park, Steve had silently talked himself from worry to annoyance at his best friend. He wondered what the hell Bucky was doing, cutting class and ditching him to hang out with Brock Rumlow of all people! He knew that he should be understanding given the current circumstances and what Bucky had been though but, at the same time, he didn't understand the attraction to Rumlow. He could get why Bucky would cut class he supposed. Being away from school meant there was less chance of seeing Pierce but Rumlow? That he just couldn't wrap his head around. 

At first glance, the park seemed deserted. It was only when Steve got closer to the play area that he could see three people by the swings. Rumlow and Rollins were sitting on them, idly swinging backwards and forwards, laughing uproariously. Steve spotted Bucky leaning against the swing support poles, his head bent. All of sudden, he leant forward and proceeded to vomit onto the wood chips. 

Rumlow and Rollin's laughter turned up a notch as they watched. Bucky continued to retch as they hopped off the swings. Rumlow gave Bucky a hard pat on the back before he and Rollins walked off in the opposite direction. Wasting no more time, Steve charged over to his best friend. He dug around in his backpack and fished out a water bottle. He pressed it into Bucky's hand and set about rubbing slow, gentle circles on his back.  
“Thanks.” Bucky said thickly once the retching had subsided. He took a deep drink from the bottle.  
“Take it easy. You don't wanna be sick again.” Steve replied automatically, ever aware thanks to his mother's medical training. Bucky nodded and handed the water bottle back. He leant back against the support pole, palms on his thighs, breathing heavily.  
“I feel like crap.” He moaned. 

“What the hell happened today?” Steve blurted out. The frustrations and worry over the past few weeks had been building up inside of him and now, seeing that what Angie had said was true and that his best friend had been lying to him, he just couldn't keep it in any longer.  
“Don't start Steve...” Bucky pleaded. Steve however, was way beyond wanting to hear reason.

“I mean, what the hell Bucky? Cutting class to get wasted in the park with Brock Rumlow of all people?” 

“I'm not drunk.” Bucky protested. He looked up up at Steve, his face pale, his eyes red rimmed, looking every bit, to Steve at least, the drunken teenager.  
“Oh yeah?” Steve spat. “Well you certainly look it and sober people don't hurl in parks! I guess you new friend Rumlow gave it to you huh? Did the pair of you get good and wasted!? And what happened to Angie being a liar? From where I'm standin' it looks like the only liar here is you!”  
Before he could really think about what he was doing, Steve gave Bucky a hard shove. Unprepared, Bucky crashed to the floor, narrowly avoiding the puddle of vomit.  
“What the-”

“I've been so fucking worried all day and all the while you've been getting drunk with our worst enemy”! Steve fumed. “More fool me for caring right?” He spat. His anger and hurt flowed freely, everything he'd kept inside since the whole situation started suddenly came gushing forth and he couldn't have stopped it even if he tried.  
“You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!” Bucky yelled as he got up, albeit rather shakily, to his feet. 

“I know you're lyin'” Steve shot back. He felt sick with disgust. “Just this mornin' you called Angie a liar and you know she's one of the sweetest people we know! And you're lyin' right now telling me you're not drunk. What the hell Bucky?” He shook his head, feeling angry tears prick his eyes. He clenched his fists. “This isn't you. This isn't my best friend! This isn't the Bucky I know!” He added, motioning to the boy who suddenly seemed like a stranger to him. 

“Because I'm not him anymore!” Bucky shouted hoarsely. “I'm not him and I never will be!” He wiped his eyes fiercely the back of his hand. “You know what?” He gave Steve a weak shove. “Fuck you Steve! Fuck you!” He yelled, his eyes blazing. 

“Fuck you too!” Steve screamed back impulsively. For the briefest of moments they stared at each other, the words between them buzzing in the air. Bucky's face hardened, a look that Steve could only describe as hatred. Not wanting to be around him anymore, Steve turned on his heel and marched off, telling himself that he'd be perfectly happy if he never saw Bucky Barnes again.

END OF CHAPTER SIX


	7. Ugliness Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone and happy 2017! Once again I'vemail sacked at updates for you all but here I am with chapter seven finally. I don’t want to promise anything but I'm hoping the chapters will be a lot quicker incoming! 
> 
> Please note that there are mentions of drug use and self harm in this chapter so if you think you'll be triggered, please take care!

Ugliness Chapter Seven 

By the time Bucky arrived home his stomach had settled and he felt less like his stomach was waging all out war on him. Rumlow has assured him that it was nothing to worry out, just a bad trip, it was considered a rite of passage. Head also been quick to add that the next time would feel awesome. Bad trip or not, at least the nausea was finally starting to subside. He slammed the front door and tore off his battered old combat boots, briefly revelling in the loud thump they made when they made contact with the wall. With the sickness leaving, it was a hell of a lot easier to focus on his rage and the fact that Steven Grant Rogers was a fucking jerk. 

“Bucky?”

Bucky jumped at the sudden sound of his father’s voice. He glanced at his watch and cursed silently. His father must have managed to get home from work early. Biting back a growl of frustration, he checked his reflection in the hallway mirror quickly. Most of the time he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror but this was an emergency. He didn’t want to go into the kitchen looking as awful as he felt. Once he was satisfied that his face didn’t betray the act he was about to switch on, he pushed open the kitchen door. 

George was sitting at the kitchen table. Head obviously been home a while as head changed out of his usual office clothes and into his comfy old sweatpants and t shirt combo he used for slobbing around the apartment. The t shirt was badly pulled and faded with age but it had been a long ago gift from Winifred and Bucky knew his father would never have the heart to throw it away. His reading glasses were perched on his nose and as Bucky entered the kitchen, George closed his laptop. 

“Hey Kiddo how was school?”

 

“OK I guess” Bucky shrugged as he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He still had a horrible acidic taste in his mouth. He hoped that his father wouldn’t be able to smell it on his breath. Just to be sure, he decided to lean against the kitchen counter instead of joining his father at the table. 

 

“I’m surprised you’re not with Steve.” George commented as he sipped his coffee. He pulled a face as he did so, obviously having let the coffee go cold. 

 

“How come you’re home so early?” Bucky asked quickly, eager to deflect the conversation away from Steve. He didn’t want to think about that asshole anymore and he definitely didn’t want his father knowing that they’d had a fight. He knew that his father would only force them to make up and after today, Bucky was adamant that wasn’t going to happen. Not even if there was some sort of nuclear apocalypse and he and Steve were the only survivors. As far as Bucky was concerned, Steve could go fuck himself in that situation, or any other situation for that matter. 

 

“And so after that nightmare with the IT upgrades I thought I’d work from home for the rest of the afternoon.”

Bucky hadn’t realised that his father was speaking. He’d forgotten that he’d even asked a question in the first place. He nodded, hoping that was an adequate response. When his father frowned at him, he figured it wasn’t .  
“Are you ok Son? You seem…” he appeared to chose the next word very carefully indeed. “distracted.”

 

“Just tired.” Bucky answered truthfully. Rumlow had warned him that he might feel this way after a high. It was, in his words, ‘part of the crash’. Bucky supposed he’d been expecting it but not so quickly and not so fiercely. He felt as though if he climbed into his bed he would sleep for days. Sleep wasn’t something that he wanted right now. Just like the reflection in the mirror, sleep was something he avoided. With sleep came the nightmares, the relentless march of sounds and images that catapulted him back to that day. Just closing his eyes could bring back the stench of Pierce’s slightly sweaty body odor. The leathery feel of his hand as it came down on his shoulder…..no, sleep wasn’t going to happen. He was going to make damn sure of it. All he needed was more. More of that magic potion that made him feel so good. Made him get out his head and almost had him feeling normal again. And there was one person who could help him get there. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and, for a brief moment, felt a pang of sadness when he saw that his display bore no notifications from Steve. He quickly pushed it down. He didn’t need Steve Rogers anymore. 

Brock Rumlow was the guy looking out for his best interests, actually helping him and not being a judgemental asshole. He sent Brock a text and grinned when he got an instant reply. Like the good friend he was Brock was offering to ease his pain and even to spend the night at his place. Bucky didn’t know a whole lot about Brock’s home life but it seemed his mother was away a lot leaving Brock the run of the house. Brock often bragged about how he could do whatever the hell he wanted, when he wanted and nobody was around to say no. It sounded like a pretty sweet deal.   
“Hey Dad?”

 

“Yeah Son?” George looked up from the newspaper he was reading and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how tired his father was looking these days. He knew it was all because of him. Well, Bucky told himself, not for much longer. With Brock’s help he was going to get his head straight and kill the ugliness inside of him. 

 

“Can I spend the night at Steve’s?” it was far easier to pretend it was Steve that he’d been texting rather than having to answer a bunch of questions about his new friend.

 

“Of course.” George replied with a smile. 

 

“And, uh, could I get some extra cash? We were gonna head to the movies and it’s my turn to treat.” Bucky lied smoothly. George positively beamed at this, obviously pleased to see him getting ‘back to normal’. He rolled his eyes fondly at the mention of money but withdrew a couple of notes from his wallet all the same.

 

“Treat yourself to some snacks too.” George said as he handed over the money. “You two deserve it.”

Bucky pocketed the money and offered his father a smile. This was way too easy.

 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

 

“Steve honey, if you wanted mashed potato you could’ve just asked.”

Steve looked up at his mother who, despite her attempt at a joke, was looking concerned. When he glanced at his dinner plate he saw that he’d practically obliterated his baked potato. He sighed heavily. He didn’t need to look up again to know that his mother was waiting patiently for an explanation. Steve was somewhat of a human hoover. Put a plate of food in front of him and it was gone within minutes. Tonight though, his appetite seemed to have deserted him. ‘Just like my best friend’ he thought bitterly as he turned his frustrations onto the green beans, spearing them with his fork. He was purposefully trying not to engage his mother. Although they shared an honest relationship and Steve felt he could talk to her about anything, he didn’t want to talk to her about Bucky. 

She seemed to sense his reluctance to talk and continued to eat for a few moments, asking for the salt before she launched her next offensive.   
“You know…” she said casually. Steve was braced for this trick. The old ‘its-a-different-subject-but-not-really’ tactic. “One of the girls at work gave me two tickets to the local art school exhibition next week. I was thinking you could take Bucky with you.”

 

“Peggy would like it more.” Steve shot back. “She wants to be a fashion designer.”

 

“I thought it might be nice for you and Bucky to get out and do something-“

 

“I don’t wanna take Bucky.” Steve shot back impulsively, cursing his temper. He continued his assault on the green beans hoping that he’d witness a miracle and his mother would drop the subject. Miracles however, were extremely rare and the gods were certainly not smiling on him tonight. 

“Why not?” Sarah asked, right on cue. 

 

“Cause” Steve answered moodily. He heard his mother sigh and he knew she was doing her best to stay calm and casual. After all, he’d got his famous temper from somewhere. Steve tried to curb his irritation too. It would be the cherry on top of a shit sandwich if he fought with his mother as well as his best friend. 

 

“You know that’s not an answer Steven.” She replied sharply. 

 

“Because he’s being a jerk Ma.” Steve answered shortly. He really was struggling to stay calm now. Bucky was the one acting like a complete and utter asshole and here he was getting the damned third degree!

“Steven!” Sarah chastised, her tone suddenly changing at her songs surprising description of his best friend. She was used to her son being a spitfire but never when it came to Bucky. Sure they’d had their disagreements over the years but never before had she heard such hatred in her son’s words over Bucky. With everything that had been going on recently she supposed a crack in their friendship could be expected but it was concerning all the same. “What’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know” Steve replied quickly which was, in part, true. He didn’t have a clue what was going on with Bucky and that was what made the situation so aggravating and upsetting at the same time. “We fought.” He added, trying to shrug it off but he knew that his tone betrayed him.

 

“You boys bicker all the time.” Sarah pointed out. “This is different. If it was one of your usual silly fights over who stole the last piece of chocolate or what movie you were going to watch then Bucky would either be sitting here now or George would be footing another takeaway pizza bill.” She clicked her head to one side. “Tell me the truth. With everything that’s happened over these last few weeks the last thing we need is something coming between the two of you.”

 

“I know…” Steve sighed feeling, for the first time, a modicum of guilt at the way he’d acted at the park. All he needed to do was picture Rumlow’s smug smirk and think about how Bucky seemed to prefer hanging around with that dickhead and the anger soon took over again. He growled in frustration and pushed his plate away. “He’s turned into an asshole Ma! He’s drinking and I don’t know who the hell he is anymore! He’s not my Bucky! My Bucky wouldn’t have-“ he cut himself off abruptly, realising that he’d aEady said way too much. An unspoken rule between him and Bucky was that you never told on each other. 

 

“Wouldn’t have what? “ Sarah pressed, her concern morphing into all out worry. That hadn’t been the answer she was expecting, not at all.

 

“Just…I don’t know!” Steve sighed. He couldn’t take back what he’d said but he sure as hell could keep his lip zipped from saying anymore. “Look I’m not hungry and Mr Banner said we had to do this oral report.” He pushed his chair back and stood up quickly. “You have a good shift at work, I’ll be in my room.” He gabbled as he marched out of room.

 

“Steven!”

 

“Night Ma! I’ll try not to wake you up in the morning.” Steve called as he thundered up the stairs. Sarah sighed heavily as she heard his bedroom door slam. As well as a spitfire, her son could be as stubborn as hell. She resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t getting any further information from him tonight. She pushed her own plate away and started to gather her things for work, telling herself that she was going to get to the bottom of this as soon as she got back. 

 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

 

Across the city, the building belonging to the local newspaper loomed large in the skyline. On the sixth floor, right in the middle, a single light glowed like a beacon. Inside the small, cluttered office, George was hunched over his desk. Scattered across the battered oak surface were various hastily scribbled notes and half drank cups of coffee. A silver picture frame took pride of place next to the computer , containing a smiling photograph of Winfrey holding a newborn Bucky, proudly showing him off to the camera. Beside that, in equally important regard, was a lopsided clay pot containing his pens painted blue with ‘Dad’ written on it in red lettering.

 

Since Bucky had decided to spent the night at Steve’s, George had taken the opportunity to get back to the office to do some more research. There was only a certain amount he could get using his laptop. His work computer had far more sources at his disposal. The police may be blind to what a monster Pierce was but George wasn’t going to take their utter incompetence lying down. He’d seen enough miscarriages of justice in his own years at the newspaper to be aware that the police made mistakes. Their faith may lie in a manipulative abuser but George’s lay firmly with his son. Come hell or high water he was going to find a way to get Pierce removed from that school and ensure he was unable to do anything like this again.

“Hey Mr Barnes” 

A shy greeting caused George to look up from the database he was accessing and towards the door. Peter Parker was standing there, dressed in an NYU hoodie and jeans, a folder under his arm. He waved rather goofily . George smiled. Peter had just been hired as a per diem photographer. The kid was only young but his talent exceeded some of the guys that had been there years and George had been lobbying for a permanent position for the kid. He was eager and hard working and was definitely an asset to the paper.

“I, uh, figured you left your light on again.” He said by way of explanation.

 

“Just burning the midnight oil.” George replied with a smile. This seemed to instantly relax Peter who nodded and held up the folder. 

 

“Same. I wanted to work on the shots for the park feature. Way better to use the darkroom here instead of annoying my roommate by cluttering up our bathroom.” Peter explained. “Harrys great and all but he doesn’t really get the whole photography thing. Thinks I should become a captain of industry like his father. Anyway, can I help you with anything? Two heads are better than one as my Uncle used to say.”

 

“It’s OK Peter. You should go home and get some sleep.” George answered as he glanced at his computer screen that suddenly went completely blank. “Fuck!” He cursed as he wiggled the mouse around, trying to get it to come back to life. “Of all the damn times...”

 

“Technical Issues?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow. As well as being a damn good photographer, Peter was getting a reputation around the office as being the go to guy to get your computer fixed. George wasn’t sure what Stark and the rest of the IT guys did in the basement all day but they never seemed to be in a hurry to get the office equipment fixed. 

 

“Damn screen just died on me.” George answered with a frustrated sigh. 

 

“I’ll take a look. IT probably went home hours ago.” Peter said, dropping his backpack by the doorway. He dumped his folder on George’s desk, careful to avoid the paperwork. George stood up and moved aside, allowing Peter to take over. 

 

“I’ll grab us a couple of coffees from the machine.” George replied as he stifled a yawn behind his hand. “God knows I need one.”

 

By the time George came back to the office with the coffee, Peter had already fixed the problem.  
“Loose VGA cable.” He explained, pointing to a cable that was attached to the monitor. “I plugged it back in but you’ll probably need to ask IT for a new one.”

 

“Which I should expect by next Christmas if I’m lucky.” George grumbled as Peter stood up and took his coffee. George flopped back down in his chair. “Thanks Peter.”

 

“Anytime Mr Barnes.” He took a sip of his coffee and seemed to be gearing up to ask something. “Look, I hope you don’t think I’m being nosy or anything but when you screen came back on I noticed you were looking up an Alexander Pierce and well, I think I might be able to help you after all. There was an Alexander Pierce at NYU. It might not be the same guy but it’s worth looking into.”

 

“”Absolutely.” George replied feeling, for the first time since he’d started his research, a slight glimmer of hope. It would be a pretty big coincidence but, as Peter said, worth investigating. “What do you know about him? Does he still work there?” Peter has used the past tense but confirmation was what he needed to get this ball rolling. 

 

“No. He left a while ago when I was still a freshman. He used to teach business so I never saw him but my roommate Harry used to have him as a professor.” Peter replied. 

 

“Hmm.” George bit his lip, thinking. He scrabbled at the mass of papers on his desk until he located a picture of Pierce that he’d found on an old faculty newsletter, He handed it to Peter, hoping to all hell that his hopes weren’t about to be dashed. “Recognise him?”

 

“Sorry Mr Barnes but I never actually saw him.” Peter answered as he stared thoughtfully at the piece of paper. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take this home and give it to Harry.”

 

“Thanks Peter…” George paused for a moment, longing to tell Peter why he was so desperate for information but, at the same time, wanting to respect the fact that his son wouldn’t appreciate him telling strangers about one of the most traumatic experiences of his young life. It looked like, for now at least, Peter was going to have to be an ally in the dark. Still, George mused as Peter slipped the paper into his folder and said goodnight, an ally was an ally all the same. He didn’t want to pin all his hopes on Peters Pierce being the same guy but for now it was something and he was beginning to feel like he was getting somewhere. As he turned back to his computer to carry on with his own research, he allowed himself to feel that little bit more confident that he was gettiing closer to doing what Mr Banner has suggested outside Coulson’s office. No matter how long it took and no matter how much it cost. George Barnes was going to nail the bastard . 

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

 

“So what do you have for me?” Sarah asked as she approach the admit desk, ready to start her shift. The nurse she was taking over from, Maria Hill, rolled her eyes expressively as she picked up three charts. 

 

“Well my dear,” She began with a wry smile. “I saved you the best as always. Curtain One is drunk, he’s quiet for now but if you ask nicely maybe he’ll treat you to his rendition of ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ for the twenty-ninth time, I hung a banana bag so you’ll need to check up on him in an hour or so, still waiting on his head CT. Dumpster Dave is back in Curtain Two. This time he swears the gnomes took him to the ballet and then for steaks, waiting on Psych as usual. Oh and some asshole stole his blanket so if you can grab him one from lost and found before Dr Bishop discharges him. And finally we have a young John Doe in the suture room.” She replied as she handed over the charts. “Paramedics brought him in unconscious, refused to tell Dr Romanoff his name when he came around. He’s got a minor forehead lac that she sewed up but we’re keeping him on obs because he’s been puking pretty regularly and Nat said he seemed altered during her exam. She’s hoping you can work your usual magic.”

 

“My usual Magic?” Sarah questioned as she scanned the nurses charts. 

 

“You know what they say around here, if anyone can get the teenagers to talk it’s Sarah Rogers.” Maria said with a smile as she rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Well that’s all I have for you honey so, if you don’t mind, I think it’s time for me to collapse in the bath with a bottle of red wine of six.” She joked with a wink. She headed for the nurses lounge but turned around before she entered. “See you at the pot luck tomorrow?”

 

“Sure. Have a good night!” Sarah replied, already on her way to the suture room. She heard the quiet hum of voices just outside the room and before she could open the door, Dr Natasha Romanoff stepped out. An extremely talented ER doctor, Natasha and Sarah had been working together for the past three years and, over that time, had become close.

“Hey Sarah, did Maria fill you in?” She asked, nodding towards the suture room. 

 

“Yeah, did you get his name yet?” Sarah replied. Natasha shook her head and scribbled something down in her notebook. 

 

“Won’t say a word to me.” She said with a sigh. “According to the paramedics, they found him lying by the side of the road. Nobody with him. He was muttering something but they couldn’t make sense of it before he lost consciousness. I just got the toxicology paperwork back and it’s showing a high concentration of dextromethorphan.”

 

“He’s been abusing DXM?” Sarah shook her head in disbelief. She thanked God that Steve was home safe and not running around on the streets like this kid clearly had. 

 

“I asked him about it and, of course, got nothing. He’s on fluids now and I’ve called for a pysch consult. When we examined him in the trauma room we found a number of self inflicted cuts on his thighs. So, if you can, try and at least get a name out of him. He had nothing on him and we need to get his parents here as soon as we can. This kid needs a hell of a lot of support. “

 

Sarah nodded. Natasha smiled tiredly and patted her shoulder before heading off down the hallway to her next patient. Sarah opened the door to the suture room and prepared herself for the hard time she was no doubt going to face in trying to get this boy to talk.  
“Hey there. My name’s Sarah and I’ll be your nurse tonight-“ Sarah’s usual friendly greeting died on her lips and she came face to face with the mysterious John Doe in the bed. 

“Bucky?”

 

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in the medicalendar terminology used in this chapter then please let me know and I can come back and add it.


	8. Ugliness Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's March's chapter! I'd be interested to know if people would prefer the update schedule as it is at the moment, a chapter or two a month or would you prefer a longer wait for the story to be completed and the chapters to come every few days? Let me know what you think! 
> 
> More warnings for this chapter - drug use and self harm references. Please take care.

Ugliness – Chapter Eight

 

Bucky laid on the gurney wearing a white hospital gown. There was a small dressing on his forehead and he was connected to an IV. He had horrible dark circles under his eyes and his face was pale and drawn. Sarah couldn't remember ever seeing him look so terrible, not even that night he'd run away and shown up at her place. Sarah shuddered as she thought back to that terrible night. He glared at her as she said his name, looking away as she grabbed a stool and wheeled it over it him. She sat down, leaning against the guard rail and waited. 

After a few moments she sighed deeply. She should've known better than waiting for Bucky to speak first. Next to her son, he was one of the stubbornest people she knew.  
“So Dr Romanoff says haven't said a word since you were brought in.” She said gently. “What's going on Bucky Honey? We all know you're in pain.” She reached out to touch his arm but he flinched away, almost yanking out his IV in the process. “Hey, hey. Careful with that. I won't try to touch you again. Just try and relax.” 

The door to the suture room suddenly burst open and Nurse Laura Barton hurried in.  
“Sorry Sarah but we've got a multi victim trauma coming in. Pile up on the freeway.” She announced before rushing back outside. Sarah stood up and cursed inwardly. Looks like it was all hands on deck. She hated to leave Bucky when he was obviously so vulnerable but she had no choice. 

“I'll be back as soon as I can Ok? If you need anything or you think you're going to be sick again, just press the call button.” She said as she stood up. “Try to get some rest Honey. I know it's not easy. I'll come right back and we'll have a good talk.”

Bucky didn't reply and Sarah had to leave him there as she headed off to help her colleagues deal with the trauma. 

 

~*~

Over an hour later and the crisis was finally over. The victims had survived and the teams had managed to get two of the up to the OR. Finally she could get back to Bucky. She hurried back to the suture room hoping, by some miracle, that Bucky had at least managed to get some sleep although she very much doubted it. She opened the door as quietly as she could for fear of disturbing him. As it happened, she needn't have bothered. Bucky was nowhere to be seen and the bag underneath the gurney that had contained his clothes was gone. 

 

~*~

Bucky hammered on Rumlow's front door. In the general hustle and bustle of a hospital attending to a trauma situation, it had been easy enough to remove his IV and change back into his clothes before hot-footing it the hell out of there. He didn't want to wait around for some well meaning lecture from Sarah, and since they'd probably seen his cuts and knew about the DXM, they'd definitely make him talk to a psychiatrist again. That was the last thing Bucky needed, someone probing about in his head, questioning his feelings. He didn't need someone with an MD to tell him he was fucked up. He was well aware of that. No amount of talking would be able to excise the ugliness. 

The ugliness inside of him was complex, ever evolving, changing so quickly that he could never get a handle on it. He could shut up its mocking voice and twisted words with the drugs but then it would assault his skin, creeping and crawling just underneath the surface. That's when he started cutting himself underneath Rumlow's guidance. He'd hoped that some of its poison would leak out with the blood.   
“What the fuck do you want?” A grouchy voice demanded, startling Bucky out of his thoughts. It was Jason, Rumlow's older brother, dressed in a scraggy tank top and jeans. Bucky hadn't spoken to him much. The guy seemed to be in a permanently bad mood. Rumlow said it was because Jason was the only one in his family who could hold down a job and that made him pissed off. “Well?” Jason prompted. When Bucky didn't instantly reply, he shook his head and walked away, leaving the door open. Bucky hurried in and made a beeline for Rumlow's bedroom. 

He found Rumlow lounging on his bed, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a bottle of beer in his hand. Bucky secretly thought that it was pretty cool that Rumlow's mother didn't get hung up about her kids drinking beer. He remembered how annoyed his father had been that time he'd found out that he and Steve had once helped themselves to one of the beers in the fridge while he'd been working late. Bucky had sworn not to touch the stuff again until he was twenty one although he'd privately thought it tasted like crap anyway. It was pretty ironic that Steve thought he was getting wasted during school hours.   
“Hey.” Rumlow nodded at him. “Wondered when you'd show up again.” 

 

“Yeah.” Bucky scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don't have any idea what happened.” 

 

“Took too much and freaked out.” Rumlow shrugged, not tearing his eyes away from whatever he was watching on TV. He took another deep drag of his cigarette. “Tried to stop you but you wanted to leave.” 

 

“Oh.” Bucky replied. He didn't really remember what had happened but he didn't remember 'freaking out' as Rumlow said. His head was such a mess these days though it was hard to keep track of what was real and what was not. 

“Happens to all newbies.” Rumlow explained. “So, you staying the night or what?”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky answered. He closed the bedroom door and sat down on the gritty carpet. “I woke up in the hospital.” 

 

“Shit happens.” Rumlow said, leaning forward and proffering a cigarette. “So I guess they busted you on the DXM? I wouldn't worry about it. Not like it's illegal or anything. It's just the shit they use in cough syrup. Can't see anyone giving you shit about that. When it happened to Rollins he just spouted some crap about having a cough.”

 

“I don't know. I ran away as soon as they left me alone.” Bucky replied. He didn't really want to think about what was going to happen now. Sarah would've seen whatever the doctor had written on his chart and she would definitely tell his father. The thought alone made him want to throw up again. He lit the cigarette and took a drag to try and calm his nerves. His father would find out he lied about spending the night at Steve's, he'd find out about the DXM and there was no way in hell he'd let him out of his sight again. If he did that Bucky had no idea how he was to keep seeing Rumlow. “Brock?”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“One of the nurses at the hospital is a family friend. She's gonna tell my Dad about the DXM. I told him I was spending the night at Steve's. What do you think I should do?” 

 

“Call her.” Rumlow shrugged, taking the final few drags from his cigarette. “Call her, said you went straight home and you're talking to Daddy Dearest about it all now and you've agreed to see a shrink. She'll probably be happy she doesn't have to bother with calling herself.” He continued as if the solution was simple. He quickly put the cigarette out on his forearm and tossed it to one side.   
“Doesn't that hurt?” 

 

“Nah. Not as messy as cutting.” Rumlow said simply. “Try it when you're done with that.” He nodded at the cigarette in Bucky's fingers. “Takes the edge off quickly.”

 

Bucky noticed for the first time that Rumlow was slightly slurring his words. He'd been drinking a bit earlier before Bucky had freaked out and it was obvious now that Rumlow probably hadn't stopped. In the short time he'd been hanging out with Rumlow, he knew that he drank most nights and either smoked weed or took DXM as well. Before he'd gotten to know Rumlow and his home life a bit more, Bucky had just assumed the same as the others at school. Rumlow was a dickhead and a bully. Your typical high school burnout who focused more on getting wasted than classes. Now it seemed there was more to that than he'd originally thought. He wondered if Rumlow had been through something similar...

“The fuck you staring at me for?” Rumlow asked, breaking his train of thought. “You've got a call to make remember? Take it outside and when you come back, grab me another beer. Jason won't give you shit. He'll be leaving for work any second now.” 

Bucky left that thought where it was, nodded and reached for his cell phone. 

 

~*~

George fought back another yawn as he stumbled into the hallway. He'd stayed on another hour after Peter had left before finally calling it a night. He hadn't really found much else apart from a few personal details such as Pierce's birth date and place of birth. Easily accessible stuff that anyone could find. At the moment he was hoping on Peter's lead to come up trumps. He took off his coat and hung it up and, as he kicked off his shoes, noticed that the answering machine light was blinking. Despite his tiredness, he chuckled good naturedly. It was probably Bucky checking in with him. He was pleased that his son was finally getting back to doing his regular things like hanging out at the movies with Steve. It showed a progress that George was beginning to think would never happen. 

He let out his yawn this time and rubbed his eyes, deciding to retire to bed.

 

~*~

Sarah let out a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. Once she'd discovered Bucky's escape, she'd checked around and the clerk at the admit desk had confirmed he'd seen Bucky leave. She'd called George but he hadn't been at home and his cell phone was shut off. She'd been on the brink of abandoning her shift when the clerk had called her over to the admit desk, saying she had a phone call. It had been Bucky, telling her that he'd made it home and was sitting down with George to talk about his issues. He'd reassured her he was safe and well and would get George to bring him back to the hospital if he started feeling worse again. 

“Hey Sarah.”   
Sarah spun round in her chair. Sam Wilson was waving to her from the other side of the admit desk. 

“Hi Sam.” She smiled. “I was about to call you actually. We don't need that psych consult for the John Doe. He left AMA but I'm handling it.” 

 

“That's the first good news I've heard all night.” Sam replied. “Not about the AMA thing but that you're handling it and that means I've finally got five minutes to actually sit down.” He quickly corrected as he wandered round the admit desk and took a seat next to her. 

“Busy night up there?” 

 

“It's a full moon. What you do think?” Sam said dryly. “It's like Mardi Gras up there.” He grabbed a chocolate from the tin that had been left behind by a grateful patient. “Remind me why I accepted the promotion again?” He continued witheringly. “Turns out being department head means more paperwork than patients. Y'know, the shit I actually went to med school for.” He sighed. “Anyway, how are you doing?” 

 

“Good now I know he's safe.” Sarah answered. She paused for a moment. “Actually, there is something you can do for me after all.” 

 

“Anything for you Sarah.” Sam replied. “As long as it doesn't involve moving my butt within the next five minutes.” He helped himself to another a chocolate from the tin. 

 

“Are you still in contact with Scott?” Sarah asked as she plucked a chocolate from the tin herself. With all the worrying about Bucky and the trauma earlier, she was suddenly starving hungry. 

“Yep. Best damn med student I ever had. Why? Not trying to poach him for the ER are you? It'd be one hell of a crime if that kid didn't go into psych.” 

 

“Actually I was wondering if you could give me his number?” Sarah said. “My son's best friend is going through some things and he's having a hard time coping. I remember Scott being particularly great with teenagers and I think he'd be someone who could actually get through to him.” 

 

“Sure.” Sam replied enthusiastically. He grabbed a nearby piece of paper and scribbled a number on it. “When you call him tell him that he'd best be putting us as his first choice for residency when the time comes.” 

 

~*~

After almost the whole night arguing with himself, Steve marched into school purposefully. He'd decided that it didn't matter how he felt about things. He needed to be there for his best friend. If Bucky was drinking and cutting class, he needed help, not his best friend turning against him. Bucky needed support and love and Steve was ashamed when he thought about how he'd acted. His mind kept casting back to the night that Bucky had run away and how lost and haunted he'd looked when he finally turned up on their doorstep. 

Steve dodged the quad completely. He knew Bucky wouldn't be there. Instead he decided to wait until second period when he and Bucky shared Mr Stan's English class. First period meant suffering through the combined irritations of Rumlow, Rollins and Sitwell who all shared the same Spanish class with him. God knows why those three were trying to learn another language when they barely had a grasp on their own but Steve figured he'd just ignore them as usual. 

As he rounded the corner that led to the classroom, Steve could hear an all too familiar loud braying. Sure enough, Rollins and Sitwell were standing by the classroom door, shoving each other and shouting out loud comments about passing students. Luckily, Peggy was taking Spanish too so Steve wasn't entirely alone in his annoyance. She smiled at him as he approached.   
“I see those two are being idiots as usual.” Steve grumbled. He looked around. “No sign of Idiot Numero Uno though.” 

 

“Rumlow's cutting classes today.” Peggy replied with a roll of her eyes. “I overheard Rollins telling Sitwell. I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies. Anyway, enough about them, how are you?” 

 

“I messed up real bad.” Steve admitted, feeling the horrible pang of guilt again. “Bucky an' me got into a fight, a pretty big one an' I feel like shit about it-”

 

“So did you hear what happened to Barnes?” Rollins exclaimed to Sitwell as he stole a can of soda from a passing freshman. Steve marvelled at just how much of a cliché those guys managed to be but the mention of Bucky caught his attention. Judging by the sudden steely expression on Peggy's face, she was listening now too. “He took some of that shit, went crazy so Brock dumped his ass on the street. You shoulda been there man. It was hilarious! It was like Baby's first bad trip.” Rollins guffawed. Sitwell started laughing in kind. “I'm tellin' ya, Barnes is way more entertaining since he got fucked in the head! we-”

 

Rollins didn't get to complete his sentence. Steve had suddenly snapped and, ignoring Peggy's hasty pleas, he launched himself at Rollins. They crashed to the floor and traded punches. Steve was fuelled with determination and rage and Rollins, though somewhat seasoned in school fights, had been taken by surprise. 

“Stickin' up for your boyfriend Rogers?” Rollins taunted as he landed a hard punch to Steve's jaw. 

“Fuck you Rollins. I could do this all day.” Steve snapped. He was about to land another hit when he felt a pair of hands come down on his shoulders and wrench him away. The red mist behind his eyes lifted and he could see Rollins being hauled up from the floor by Mr Barton. 

“Rollins! Get to Principal Coulson's office now! We all know you now the way by now.” Mr Barton ordered as the gathered crowd started to disperse now the pre-class entertainment was over. 

“I'll take care of Steve.” Steve heard Mr Banner say. He felt Mr Banner's hand on his shoulder again. “Come with me.” 

Mr Banner steered Steve down the corridor to an empty classroom. As Steve took a seat opposite the teacher's desk, Mr Banner rummaged in the top desk drawer, eventually producing a box of tissues which he proffered to Steve. It was then that Steve realised his nose was bleeding. He grabbed a couple of tissues and held them up to his bloody nose as Mr Banner sat down.   
“I think now would be a good time to have that chat.” Mr Banner said calmly. “Don't you?”

END OF CHAPTER EIGHT


	9. Ugliness Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end of this thing! One more chapter to go after this one. 
> 
> This chapter contains some pretty heavy mentions of sexual abuse, self harm and alcohol so please take care when reading. 
> 
> I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has left comments and kudos on this work. It's an immensely personal piece to me and, yes, a lot of it has sadly come from personal experiences which is partly why it's taken the time it has to write. I appreciate everybody's patience when it comes to the updates which have been a lot slower than I originally anticipated. The fact that so many people have responded to this story means a hell of a lot and I will eventually get to replying to your comments. Thank you so much! 
> 
> As always, if you'd like, you can follow me on tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mr-barnes-if-ya-nasty

Ugliness Chapter Nine 

 

Steve wiped his bloody nose on the tissues Mr Banner had handed him noting, for the first time, that his knuckles were bleeding too. Mr Banner was once again rummaging in the desk drawer, eventually he pulled out a packet of cookies.  
“Not my desk but I'm sure the owner won't mind.” He said. He passed the packet to Steve who accepted it. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he'd skipped breakfast or the fact that he was so worked up but he was suddenly starving hungry. He sighed as he fingered the packet.  
“I'm sorry Mr Banner.” He replied. “For fightin'” 

“I should think so.” Mr Banner said, although he didn't sound annoyed. “I think it's about time we had a good chat Steven. We need to focus on you right now.” 

“But that's the thing Mr Banner. I'm not the one who got hurt!” Steve protested. He pushed aside the package of cookies. Hunger or no, how he could even think about eating at a time like this? 

“Well you did, in a way.” Mr Banner corrected. “And it's as valid as the way James was hurt. While you didn't experience that horrible injustice, you're certainly living with the aftermath. It can't be easy living with so much fear and worry.” 

“It's not.” Steve admitted before he even had the chance to think about it. “But I messed up real bad Mr Banner. I got into this stupid fight with Bucky instead of being there for him like I should be!” He said, frustrated. 

“The burden isn't yours alone Steven.” Mr Banner said sagely. “James has been through a terrible, life changing experience and supporting him shouldn't fall to just one person. He needs a support network, his loved ones working together with a professional to help him to heal.” He smiled sympathetically. “Has anyone offered you counselling?”

“No.” Steve replied. He wanted to protest again. He wanted to tell Mr Banner that any help should be given to Bucky and not him but, if he was being perfectly honest, he was beginning to feel like he needed someone to talk to too. He had so many new and confusing feelings it was like he couldn't make sense of them on his own while at the same time trying to understand the changes in his friend.

“I think you would benefit from it.” Mr Banner continued gently. “Someone you could see, maybe once a week, to talk about all of this to rather than taking out your feelings on Jack Rollins' face.” He added with a slight smirk. “Would you like me to arrange that for you?” 

Steve bit his lip. He wanted it but he still felt as though he was undeserving of the help. Especially since Bucky wasn't seeing a counsellor or psychologist.   
“You don't have to answer me now. It's something to think about.” Mr Banner continued kindly when Steve didn't respond.

“Mr Banner...” Steve started but stopped, hesitating. He played with the twisted end of the cookie package. “It's my fault.” He finished in a small voice. He'd carried that thought around with him for so long, it felt strangely relieving to say it out loud. He'd come close so many times, especially with his Mother, but he'd never quite managed it. There was something about Mr Banner that made him easy to open up to.

“What's your fault?" Mr Banner questioned. "The fight you two had?” 

“That, and...” Steve took a deep breath. He'd come this far, he might as well finish what he started. “it's...it's my fault he got...y'know...raped.” He whispered the last word, feeling the bile swirling in his stomach as he said it. Mr Banner was looking at him, obviously encouraging him to explain. Steve swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was about to burst into tears. It was all his fault. The relief he'd felt disappeared as quickly as it came. Maybe Mr Banner would agree with him? “Well...I left him in there. In the locker room. I was gonna meet Peggy and I left him behind. Maybe if I hadn't then it would've never happened. Everything would be ok and that's why it's all my fault.” 

“I can see why you'd think that but it wasn't your fault Steven, not at all. Think about it and reverse the situation. If, and god forbid, it'd been you in James' place and he'd been the one to go and meet Peggy, would you blame him? Would you tell him it's all his fault that you were hurt?” Mr Banner countered. 

“No! Of course not!” Steve replied vehemently. “It's not his fault Pierce is a sick bast-oh!” Steve smiled a little sheepishly. “I see what you did there. I just wish I could go back in time and protect him but all I can do is be his friend and try and help him, even though I suck at it.” 

“I'm sure he understands.” Mr Banner said with a smile. “You've both been through so much in such a short time and neither of you were prepared for a such a life changing event. It's natural that you'll both struggle with your feelings and it's normal to have disagreements. There's so many strong emotions from the both of you over what happened, you're bound to clash sometimes but I know that deep down you and James care about each other very much and I know that the both of you know that too. I think it might be a good idea for the two of you to just do something you would normally do. Maybe invite James to your house and play some video games or watch a movie. I'm certain the two of you will make up.” 

“Yeah...” Steve answered, suddenly feeling hopeful. “Yeah I'm gonna do that.”

“Just know that it's ok for you to need a break sometimes and it's ok if you need to be the one who talks to someone.” Mr Banner concluded. “Just no more fights.” 

“Sure. Sorry Mr Banner.” Steve said as he stood up. “And thanks for...this. I think I needed it.” He added as he picked up his backpack.   
“Any time Steven. I'm always here for you if you need to talk to me again.” 

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I might just do that.”

~*~

Bucky shuffled into school. He'd decided to force himself to despite everything in his head screaming at him to stay away. After the near miss with the hospital he didn't want to chance a teacher calling his Dad and telling him that he was missing school. It made him feel guilty as hell that he'd lied to Sarah but, he'd reasoned, it had been necessary. 

He walked heavy-footed down the silent corridors feeling as though his entire body was weighing him down. The horrible hungover feeling that came with taking the DXM was starting to hit him more frequently. He'd wanted nothing more than to stay at Brock's, numbing his mind to the ugliness. Brock had tried to convince him to stay and had shaken his head in disgust when Bucky had insisted on going to school. When he'd left Brock's house, Brock had still been in bed showing no signs of moving. 

He let out a sigh, trying to break through the fog in his brain to remember which class he was currently supposed to be in. There wasn't much space in his head these days for the mundane things such as school. Was it science of was it Spanish? Not that it really mattered. It wasn't like he was going to be able to pay attention anyway.   
“Late I see.” A voice said as Bucky had just begun to debate turning round and getting the hell out of there. “Well that simply won't do.” 

He recognised that voice. Every nerve within his body suddenly felt as though it was standing to attention and on alert. He blinked his bleary eyes and the face of Alexander Pierce came swimming into his vision. The man was standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest, that self satisfied sick smirk stretching his lips. Bucky's first instinct was to bolt but he felt stuck to the spot with fear.   
“And what, may I ask, is your reason for being late James?” Pierce probed. He leaned in to Bucky's personal space. Bucky's stomach flipped as he caught the same smell that took him right back to the locker room. Bile bubbled into his throat as he felt Pierce's thick, sausage-like, fingers encircle his wrist. “I'm speaking to you James.” 

“I...I...” Bucky stuttered, unable to take his eyes off the leathery skin of Pierce's other hand as it slowly pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. Pierce twisted his arm until the angry red lines of his scars were facing upwards. Bucky felt as if he was going to collapse when Pierce ran a finger slowly up the exposed skin.   
“Hmm.” He seemed to consider for a moment. “I think they make you even more beautiful.” He whispered low. “It marks you as mine.” He continued almost proudly. “I made you do this. You'll always be mine James...” 

“Mr Pierce!” Bucky was vaguely aware of another voice somewhere in the background. Pierce released his arm as if it were suddenly burning hot. Bucky stared at it as if his touch had left a brand on his skin. “What's going on here?” 

“Nothing Mr Banner. I was simply enquiring as to why James is late, that's all.” Pierce replied, turning on that snake-like charm. It scared Bucky that he could switch so easily and sound so convincing. He looked up to see Mr Banner approaching them looking distinctly unconvinced. 

“If James is late then he needs to see his class tutor, not you.” Mr Banner said coolly. He turned his attention to Bucky. “Are you Ok James? Do you need to see Principal Coulson?” 

Bucky shook his head. His words were completely failing him. All he could focus on was Pierce's smile and his eyes. Those same eyes that haunted his dreams. The eyes that seemed to be able to bore deep into his soul.   
“Well I'll leave you to deal with this.” Pierce said casually. “I have business elsewhere that requires my attention.” He added with a shrug. He turned on his heel and marched away. Bucky stared after him feeling like he wanted to claw off his own skin. 

Suddenly he regained control of his body. He was able to move. He looked up at Mr Banner who was looking back at him with concern.   
“Gotta go. Late.” He gabbled before turning around and running off in the opposite direction. He heard Mr Banner calling after him but he ignored him, hoping to hell that Mr Banner wouldn't follow. He charged down the corridor feeling as if he was going to be sick any moment. He tore around the corner and collided with another body. He didn't stop and instead ducked into the nearby toilets. He ran into a cubicle and locked the door behind him. He retched again and again but nothing came up. He was shaking all over as his body tried to expel the filth that he could feel sticking to his ribs. 

“Buck?”   
Footsteps and Steve's voice. Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep gulp of air as he tried to control his stomach. In the gap at the bottom of the door he saw the toes of Steve's battered old Converse sneakers come into view as they moved across the grimy brown tiles.   
“Buck, can I come in?” 

“Go away Steve.” Bucky said with a venom he certainly didn't feel. He'd been so stupid to be mad at Steve. It wasn't Steve's fault that he was so fucked up. 

“No.”   
If it had been any other moment. Any time before he'd been broken, Bucky would've found Steve's stubborn statement funny. Instead he sat on the toilet bowl, drawing his knees to his chest and willing his best friend to go the hell away.   
“I'm really sorry.” Steve continued. “I acted like a jerk in the park an' it was shitty of me to say those things to you. D'you think you could come out? I feel kinda weird talkin' to a door.” 

“I forgive you Steve.” Bucky replied tiredly. “Could you just leave me alone?” He needed to get the hell out of the school as soon as possible and head back to Rumlow's. He needed to get out of his head and never before had burning himself seemed so appealing. Maybe he could burn away the feel of Pierce's touch from his skin. 

“Fine.” Steve said. The sneakers disappeared from the tiles and just as Bucky was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a messy blonde head appeared in the gap at the top of the cubicle. 

“What the fuck?” 

“I told you.” Steve explained as he heaved himself over the gap and landed somewhat clumsily in the cubicle beside him. “I felt dumb talkin' to a door and you weren't comin' out so you gave me no choice.” 

“You're crazy.” Bucky said in disbelief. 

“It's been said before.” Steve replied. He sat down, resting his back against the door. “So, why are you hangin' out in a toilet?” 

“Seemed as good a place as any.” Bucky said with a shrug. “Look, I acted like a jerk too at the park. I'm sorry. It's just...I don't know...everything's changed. I don't feel like me any more and I took it out on you.”

“I get it.” Steve picked at a piece of duct tape that held his sketchbook together. “Maybe you should talk to someone? Like a counsellor or somethin'.” 

Bucky shrugged. He didn't really see the point. After all, some guy with a degree in psychology couldn't erase what had happened. He couldn't get rid of Pierce because the police didn't even believe his story so what use would talking about it be?   
“I was thinkin;'” Steve continued, remembering Mr Banner's suggestion. “You should come round to mine after school. We could rent a movie and have some pizza or somethin'. Ma's still on nights so we could just chill. Maybe play some Skyrim. I got the DLC where you can ride dragons.” 

“Sounds good.” Bucky said quietly. “How about tomorrow? I was planning on hanging with my Dad tonight. He's been workin' pretty hard and he got the night off.” He felt guilty at lying again but he knew there was no way Steve would be happy with the truth.   
“Sure. It's a date.” Steve smiled as he got to his feet. “I guess I better get back to class. I was only supposed to be going to the toilet.” He looked around. “Well, wasn't exactly lying.” He added with a grin. “You've got Geography next right? Catch you in the quad at lunch?” 

“Sure.”   
Steve grinned and unlocked the toilet door. He gave Bucky a dorky wave before leaving. Bucky counted the seconds and as soon as he'd given Steve enough time to be well clear of the corridors, he left the toilets and made straight for the exit. 

~*~

George was vaguely aware that his cellphone was ringing again as he scrolled through the information on his computer screen. A quick glance at the screen told him it was Sarah calling again. She'd been trying to call him since the morning but George had been too swept up in his research. Every time he felt as if he was on the cusp of getting a breakthrough, it would lead to a dead end. He was beginning to get frustrated with the whole process. Surely if Pierce had done this sort of thing before, it shouldn't be that hard to find some evidence of it. But, when he had the whole internet at his fingertips, it was hard to know which avenues to explore.   
“Mr Barnes?” Peter stuck his head around the office door. George looked up and felt a glimmer of hope after his extremely disappointing morning. 

“George, please.” George replied as Peter entered the office and closed the door behind him. He looked somewhat dishevelled, as if he'd stayed up all night. George noted he was still wearing the hoodie he'd been wearing the previous day. 

“So.” Peter said as he sat down. “I spoke to Harry and showed him the printout you gave me and he said that it's not the same Pierce.” 

“Shit.” George cursed loudly. Another damn dead end. And that had seemed like the most hopeful too. Now he was back to square one with very little else to go on. 

“But!” Peter continued as he pulled out the crumpled printout that George had given him the night before. “Get this! Harry said he remembered the Pierce from NYU winning this award.” He stabbed his finger at the part on the sheet that listed Pierce's numerous awards. He remembers his father talking about it at the time. I didn't think anything of it at first because obviously two different people can receive the same award but then Harry told me what was weird is that it was the same year.” 

“What?” George leaned forward. He fought to keep control of his excitement. Peter nodded encouragingly and started scrabbling around in his shoulder bag. 

“Yep! So we did some more research and found a copy of NYU's Alexander Pierce's educational profile on an alumni website.” He pulled out another sheet of paper. “Check this out! Harry highlighted all the relevant parts.” 

George took the proffered pieces of paper and looked at them both. He let out a small gasp of surprised when he ran his eyes over the highlighted parts of each paper. The dates, the awards, the information of previous appointments at other schools, they were all the same! He looked at Peter who's eyes were sparkling with excitement.   
“Peter! You bloody genius!” George crowed. “This is great!” 

“It gets better!” Peter replied. “NYU's Pierce died a couple of years ago. Harry's father confirmed it. They were old friends and Mr Osborn went to the funeral. Professor Pierce's family didn't announce it because they wanted to mourn in private so it was only close friends and family that were informed. They didn't want the alumni website to announce it.” 

“This is perfect!” George said excitedly. “So it looks like Pierce stole this poor guy's identity. All we need to do is confirm it for sure.” He looked at the pieces of paper thoughtfully. “I need to find a copy of his CV. If the information he submitted to Bucky's school is the same as your Professor Pierce, all we need to do is find out who he was originally. My bet is that he changed his name when he took on the professor's identity.” 

“Do you have anyone at the school who could help?” Peter asked eagerly. 

“As a matter of fact Peter, I do.” 

~*~

Bucky lay back on Brock's bed, staring up at the grubby ceiling. There was a cluster of pin prick holes near the light fixture. Brock had once explained it was where he'd practised his darts. After leaving the school he'd arrived back at Brock's place to find Brock awake and drinking. It had seemed like a good idea after what had happened with Pierce so, when Brock had offered him a bottle of beer, Bucky had accepted. It didn't matter that it tasted like shit and his stupid vow about not drinking until he was twenty-one seemed pointless compared to how he was feeling now. A couple of bottles of the foul tasting liquid later and Bucky was starting to feel a little calmer as he stared as those holes. Brock was right about alcohol's ability to take the edge off of things. 

It had even taken the edge off of the new marks on his arm. Using Brock's guidance, he'd used a heated spoon handle to slowly and methodically burn the skin where Pierce had touched him. It had been something of a comfort to know that he'd effectively burned off the skin that had been tainted with Pierce's touch. He wondered if that was the same reason why Brock did it. As he lay back, counting the holes in the ceiling, he tried to work up the courage to ask. He told himself he'd do it once he'd counted twenty, then thirty but each time he chickened out. Brock was volatile and if he took offence at the question then he'd most likely kick Bucky out of the house and no longer supply him with the DXM and the beer. 

As it happened, he didn't need to ask. Brock was laying on the carpet taking deep drags of the joint he'd rolled a few minutes before. He took a couple more puffs before rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow.   
“Hey Barnes, you ever think about revenge?” 

Bucky felt wrong footed by the sudden question, unsure of what Brock meant. He decided to keep quiet to see if Brock would explain himself. After a minute or two Brock continued.   
“I do. Think about it all the fucking time. Sometimes it's all I can think about. That and my brother.” 

“Jason?” Bucky questioned. 

“Nah. Fuck that guy man. He's an asshole.” Brock said derisively. He fiddled with the joint between his fingers and took another drag. “I'm talking about Blake.” At the mention of the name, Brock's expression changed. Bucky had never seen him look anything other than hard faced. As soon as he'd said 'Blake', his features had softened and Brock suddenly looked like a whole different person. 

“I didn't know you had another brother.” Bucky replied. He started to feel sick again, almost as if he knew what was coming next. He had a feeling whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. 

“Yeah, a year older than me. He was fucking awesome. Played the guitar in a band with some guys from school. Shit hot he was at it too. Always promised to teach me but then he died.” 

Brock had said it so casually, so quickly, that Bucky wasn't sure he'd heard it right. One look at Brock's face though told him he'd heard it correctly. He was surprised to see tears glistening in Brock's eyes. Brock made a disgusted noise and took another deep drag of his joint followed up by half of his bottle of beer. He sniffed hard and moved back to stare at the ceiling obviously not wanting Bucky to see his tears.   
“Killed himself.” He continued. “Fucking hung himself. Went to his room to ask him if I could borrow his guitar and he was fucking...hanging there.” 

“Shit Brock...” Bucky didn't know what to say. This was a side of Brock Rumlow that he was certain that few people, if any, had seen before. 

“Shit's right!” Brock replied. “Nothing I could fucking do! He'd already gone by the time I walked in. Just like that.” 

“Why?” Bucky asked quietly. “Why did he do that?”   
Brock suddenly sat upright and turned around to face Bucky. The hardened look was back on his face.   
“You fucking tell anyone about this and I'll kick your fucking ass Barnes ok?” He threatened in a tone that Bucky was more familiar with. 

“Of course.” Bucky said nervously. “I won't tell anyone. Promise.”   
Brock glared at him for another moment or two and nodded, seemingly comfortable with Bucky's reply.   
“Good. Knew I could trust you Barnes. You seem fucked up like me so I guess you get it.” He continued after draining the rest of the bottle of beer. “He left a suicide note for me. Under my pillow. He said that I deserved the truth but he didn't want anyone else to know so I never showed it to anyone. He got attacked by someone.” 

“Attacked?” It was Bucky's turn to sit up. He clenched the edge of the mattress in his hands. That sick feeling was coming back again.   
“That sick fucking fuck Pierce” Brock said through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with pure hatred. “He y'know, did shit to him.” 

Bucky felt like the ceiling above him had just caved in. Before he knew what was happening, his stomach contents rebelled against him and he threw up over Brock's sheets. 

 

END OF CHAPTER NINE


	10. Ugliness Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're dooooooooooooooooone!
> 
> Last chapter here and ready to go! Sorry about the lateness of this one, I intended to have it done and posted a month ago but then I got involved in writing my fic for this year's StuckyBigBang. If you like Stripper!Bucky and Beardyteacher!Steve with more angst than you can shake a stick that then hopefully you'll enjoy that one too. Look out for 'Give Your Heart A Break' later this summer!

Ugliness Chapter Ten

Bucky had expected Brock to kick him out as soon as he'd hurled his guts all over the bed. After all, it was a pretty disgusting thing to do. It surprised him when Brock simply bundled up the sheet and tossed it out in a garbage bag. He'd returned with two more bottles of beer and had taken his place back on the floor as if nothing had happened. They drank in silence for a few minutes, Bucky trying hard not to show his disgust for the taste of the beer, before Brock spoke again.   
“So what was that about then?” He asked casually. 

Bucky didn't know what to say. Brock had just opened up and told him about what was probably the most tragic and traumatic moment of his life. Why couldn't he return the favour? He picked at the label on the beer. He didn't want to start thinking about his now. He wanted to keep a hold on the buzz the alcohol was starting to give him. 

“He do it to you or something?” Brock pressed. He was keeping his gaze on the ceiling and Bucky couldn't even bring himself to look up. He stared at the green glass of the beer bottle.   
“Yeah.” He said quietly. 

“That's why you're so fucked up? Why you wanted to get high?” Brock questioned. “Makes a shit ton of sense. I started getting high after Blake.” 

“Yeah.” He repeated. 

“So then you'll know how it feels to want revenge.” Brock sounded angry again. Bucky shrugged. Revenge had never been something that had entered his mind. Revulsion, disgust, anger, hurt had all been a part of the last few weeks but he'd turned everything inwards. He was the broken one. He was the one infected by the ugliness. He'd focused solely on self destruction. “Been thinking about it for years. Every time I see that smug ass hole strutting down the corridors I think about what he did to Blake. Sometimes I get so fucking mad that I can't be in that place. Can't walk down those same corridors cos I think the urge to beat ten shades of shit out of him will get too much. And I think to myself, why not just do it? It's not like he'd be expecting it. What do I really have to lose? School? Yeah right. Talk about a fucking bust. My Mom wouldn't give a fuck. She's been checked out since Blake died. Then I tell myself no, wait a while, come up with something that'll make him suffer and then, only then, when I have the perfect plan, I'll make sure he gets his.” Brock spat. He suddenly sat up and Bucky dared look at him. His eyes were blazing with anger. “How about it Barnes? Want to see that fucker burn?” 

“I...I don't-” Bucky mumbled. He really wished he had a blade or that hot spoon right now. He could feel the ugliness waking up and beginning to crawl just underneath his skin. His arms started to itch with it as it twisted and undulated around his body.   
“I know you can do it. You're not chicken shit like Rollins and Sitwell are. Rollins starts talking shit about how I'm going too far and Sitwell's too scared cos daddy's a detective.” Brock continued with venom. “You wanna live the rest of your life knowing that he's out there? That he could do it to you again at any time? Why should we be the ones carrying around that shit when we can do something about it.” 

“I...I tried. The police-” 

“The fucking police? Don't make me laugh. We're just kids and everyone thinks the sun shines out of his ass cos he got all those awards. Fuck the police Barnes. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. We can end it. I've got the perfect plan. No way it can go wrong.” Brock's eyes were gleaming now with excitement. 

Bucky could feel his stomach churning alongside his skin crawling. Did he want to hurt Pierce? The thought had never crossed his mind. Hurting Pierce would mean being around him and, as today had already proved, it was too dangerous. He froze whenever he was around Pierce and that meant Pierce would be able to do what ever he wanted. Touch him...hurt him...the itching feeling beneath his skin intensified.   
“Brock, I-” 

“You trying to back out on me Barnes?” Brock snarled. He got to his feet so quickly that Bucky flinched. 

“I never said I-” 

“You can't back out now.” Brock suddenly advanced on him, leaning in so that Bucky could smell the cloying mixture of stale smoke and beer. “You can't be like them. I need help to do this Barnes and we've got the same reasons.” He grabbed hold of Bucky's arm and wrenched up the sleeve of his shirt exposing the red scar of his suicide attempt and the fresh burns that circled his wrist. “You wanna do this shit for the rest of your life?” Brock continued. He squeezed Bucky's wrist in a move that was calculated to hurt. The jolt of pain was welcome and some of the fog cleared from Bucky's head. He looked down at his arm. The marks would always be there, always be a reminder of what had happened but could this be the way to rid himself of the ugliness inside of him? It had been a part of him for so long that he'd forgotten how his life used to be. Would hurting Pierce, like Brock wanted, solve all of his problems? 

Brock had obviously picked up on the fact that he was weakening. He released Bucky's arm, staring at him intently.   
“So. What do you say?” 

“What even is this plan of yours?” Bucky asked. It wouldn't hurt to know what the idea was after all.   
“Been watching him for ages.” Brock explained. “I followed him home from school once so I know where he lives. I'm gonna go there and-”

“Go to his house?” Bucky asked incredulously. “No!” The reaction hit him like accidentally placing a hand on something hot. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. Brock's eyes narrowed and, for the first time since he'd started hanging out with him, Bucky wanted to be anywhere else but in this room. 

“He'll do it again.” Brock said darkly. “You know he will. First Blake. Then you. Who's next? What about that best friend of yours? Rogers? You think you feel bad now then think how you'd feel if it happened to him and you didn't take your chance to stop it. It'd be all your fault.” 

That did it. Brock was right. He couldn't let Pierce hurt Steve. There was no way in hell he'd let that happen. He didn't like the sound of being anywhere near Pierce's home but he knew he had to do it to protect Steve. It was too late to save himself.   
“I'll do it.” Bucky said. 

“Knew you'd come around Barnes.” 

~*~

 

Bucky let himself into the apartment and toed off his sneakers. He'd told himself that he wasn't going to think any more about Brock's plan. If he did, he was bound to get nervous and even try to back out. He needed to focus on the reason why he was doing it. He didn't even have the buzz of the alcohol to rely on any more. Annoyingly the walk home had sobered him up, bringing him back to horrible awareness. 

He moved into the kitchen to get himself a drink and was surprised to see his the shadowy outline of somebody sitting at the table. For the briefest of moments, his heart leapt into his throat at the thought that it could be Pierce. With a trembling hand he reached for the switch and light flooded into the room. His father was the one sitting at the table, hunched over and looked as though he was deep in thought. He looked up at the sudden light and Bucky could see that his eyes were rimmed with red. The last time he'd seen his father looking like that was when he'd woken up after his suicide attempt.   
“Dad?” 

“Sit down Bucky.” George said firmly. Bucky could tell him father wasn't in the mood to be questioned. He nodded and sat down opposite him. “I'd like you to tell me where you've been going after school.”

“You know where.” Bucky replied, hoping he didn't look as suddenly panicked as he felt. His nerves were already jangled over Brock's plan, making it harder for him to keep up the facade. 

“I thought I did.” George said. “I thought that we'd gotten somewhere Son. I thought that we'd finally turned a corner and that I could trust you to be safe. I thought I could trust you full stop.” He sighed heavily. “I know you've been lying.” 

“What do you-” 

“Sarah's been trying to get a hold of me all day. When I finally returned her call she told me about your visit to the emergency room a couple of days ago.” George explained. He looked up and Bucky could see the disappointment on his face alongside the worn features of someone who hadn't been sleeping very well. It was a painful reminder of the dark days following his Mother's death all those years ago. “She seemed to think that I was fully aware of the fact that you've been abusing your body with drugs and harming yourself.”

“It's non of her business.” Bucky muttered. He felt like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. He wished that Brock was around. Surely he'd be able to think of something? It wasn't like he could sit here and accuse Sarah Rogers of lying.   
“Maybe not but it's certainly mine.” George said a little sadly. “Why didn't you come to me Son? Why did you let it get to this?” 

“I-I just wanted it to stop” Bucky replied truthfully. Just like that, his father had given him an out. He knew he'd feel bad later but right now he needed to get out of this situation and this was the only way. “And anyway, it's not like you were around to notice.” He didn't look at his father as he said this but he heard the sharp intake of breath that followed. It was enough. 

“Bucky-” 

“No!” Bucky interrupted. Where his sudden anger came from he didn't know but it was perfect fuel for the fire. “You're not here Dad. You never are. You're always at the office. What else was I supposed to do? Brock was there for me. He listened and he helped me out! You don't understand. None of you do! Not Sarah, not Steve, not any of the teachers at school. You don't know what it's like! I'm not ME any more and I never will be again! It's just like when-” 

Bucky suddenly stopped himself. He hadn't intended the words to pour out in the way they had. He dared to look at his father who, to his surprise, was nodding in agreement.   
“You can say it Son. It's just like when your mother died.” George said quietly. “I regret that so much. You'd just lost your mother and I threw myself into my work. I think about her every day. Think about the two of you and how close you were and how, almost like magic, she could take away your hurt and pain.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “These last few weeks have been hell for me Son. I know you're hurting and I don't know what to do about it. An evil, wicked monster hurt my boy and I can't change that. All I can do is my best and in trying to do that for you, I've been useless just like I was back then.” 

“You lost her too.” Bucky replied, his father's words sobering him up and making the sudden anger melt away as quickly as it had hit him.   
“Maybe if she was still here this would've turned out a lot differently.” George cleared his throat and dashed away his tears. “I'm sorry I haven't been there for you but surely you can see this isn't the way? You need to heal Son and I know you're smart enough to know abusing drugs isn't the way to go about that.”

“It makes me forget.” Bucky said. “All I want to do is forget. When I take something or I hurt myself then it makes me forget that I don't know who I am any more.” He admitted. He'd never said this out loud but his father's honesty had given him the strength he needed to do so. “I feel like...like I died in that locker room and I have no idea who's taken his place.” 

“Come here Baby,” George opened his arms and Bucky found himself collapsing into them. “You're still my brilliant, intelligent, brave son and you and I, we're going to make a plan.” He continued, his chin resting on the top of Bucky's head. “First thing is that we need to get you checked out. I don't know much about drugs and we need to make sure this is something you can just stop safely. Next thing is getting you some help. You need to talk to someone, someone who has experience in this kind of thing. Sarah's given me the number of a guy she knows so we'll set up an appointment with him, does that sound good?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky's reply was muffled by his father's shirt. He found himself starting to cry. He wanted to continue being honest, to tell his father about Brock's plan but he knew that Brock would never forgive him.   
“I'm going to scale back my hours at work.” George added, pushing Bucky away slightly so they were face to face. He gently wiped Bucky's tears away with his thumbs. “From now on, I promise to be around for you a lot more. I promise to be your father.” He planted a kiss on Bucky's forehead. “Now, how about we order a pizza and watch a movie? I don't think I've introduced you to the epic saga that is the Rocky movies yet.” 

Despite his fears about Brock's upcoming revenge plan. Bucky nodded and smiled through his tears. He was determined to try and forget Brock for the night and enjoy the time with his father. 

~*~

The following day, Bucky couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was Brock's plan which they were due to carry out straight after school. Brock had assured him that morning that it was foolproof and there was no way it go wrong. Bucky still had his reservations, especially after last night's talk with his father.   
“Buck?” Steve's knobbly elbow brought him out of his gloomy reverie. Bucky turned to face his friend who was already halfway through his sheet of math problems. “My Ma's gonna make brownies for us tonight.” 

“Oh.” Bucky internally cursed. He'd forgotten that he'd made plans with Steve. The blond was looking at him hopefully, obviously excited at the prospect of them finally spending some time together. Brock however, had been adamant that the plan needed to be carried out tonight. He'd spent the last month or so tracking Pierce's routine and had established that he would be heading home straight after school was out. “Sorry Stevie, my Dad made an appointment with the doctor so I'm gonna hafta bail.” 

“Hey, that's fine.” Steve looked a little disappointed but understanding. “Give me a call when you're done, we could play Call of Duty.” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Bucky replied unconvincingly as he stared down at his sheet of math problems. He didn't notice Steve's concerned frown.

~*~

“Perfect.” George smirked at his computer screen where an attachment from Bruce Banner was currently downloading. “I knew my contact at the school would turn up trumps.” He looked over at Peter who was collating all of the evidence they'd collected about the identity theft. 

“Harry delivered too.” Peter replied excitedly, waving a sheet of paper in the air. “Just as you suspected Mr Barnes, a year after Professor Pierce's death, there was someone who had their name changed to Alexander Pierce. It took him hours to do and he's pretty sure he's banned from the college's computer lab for the foreseeable future but he said it was worth it.” 

“I hope he didn't get into too much trouble.” George replied in a concerned voice, not bothering to correct Peter over his name. He was beginning to get excited. He'd already called Detective Stern and informed him that he had some new information pertaining to Bucky's case and he was planning to present it all at the police station before heading to the school to pick Bucky up.   
“Nah, he's good. Besides, his dad bought that computer lab.” Peter said with a chuckle. “So, the 411 on this guy is that he's originally from Germany, previous name Johann Schmidt. Harry did even more digging and found out that there's currently a warrant out in Germany for his arrest for crimes committed against minors.” 

“Peter, as soon as this is over, I am buying you and Harry a very big drink.” George replied with a grin. “Bruce Banner too. I owe you all so much.” He continued gratefully. 

“Honestly, I think we'd all settle for justice being done.” Peter said as he organised all the paperwork into a file folder. “That and a staff position for me.” He added with a cheeky wink. 

“No worries on that front Peter.” George replied chuckling. “I went to see the boss today and she's agreed that your position needs to be made permanent. She also agreed to a leave of absence for me to spend some more time with Bucky.”   
“That's awesome news Mr Barnes.” Peter handed him the file folder. “Well, I gotta get going, my aunt needs me to go the store for her, let me know how it goes with the police.” 

“Will do.” George nodded. “And Peter? Thank you. I don't think I'll ever be able to express exactly how much you and Harry have helped.” 

“Any time Mr Barnes!” Peter replied as he waved goodbye. He left the office only to poke his head around the door seconds later. “I mean George.” 

George shook his head fondly and grinned. 

~*~

“Something's up with Bucky.” Steve said as he stared down at his still life composition. Usually he would be one of the first to finish in art class but today he was far too distracted. No matter how many times he drew it, he couldn't stop his pear from looking like a balloon.   
“You said.” Peggy replied with a knowing smile. Her own composition was almost finished. She was more of a writer than an artist but Steve was impressed with her use of colour. 

“There's something he's not telling me.” Steve continued, almost to himself. “I know that's how he's been recently but something's different.” He mused, rubbing out his pear for the sixth time. “And I'll bet that something has to do with Brock Rumlow.” 

“They're still talking to each other?” Peggy questioned with a raised eyebrow. Steve nodded grimly. “Hmm...” She stopped painting to ponder for a moment. 

“Do you know something?” Steve asked, abandoning his painting completely. 

“Possibly.” Peggy replied, nibbling her bottom lip. “Those two idiots Rumlow hangs around with, they're in my IT class. It's not hard to overhear them when they're talking, they're about as subtle as a flying brick. They were discussing some sort of plan Rumlow has and how he's going to carry it out tonight.” 

“And I bet he's roped Bucky into it.” Steve added. It would certainly make sense. Bucky was even more distracted and edgy than he had been in recent weeks. It definitely added up. The only thing he needed to work out was exactly what Rumlow was planning and how Bucky was involved. “Did you hear anything about this plan of his?” 

“Something about revenge,” Peggy lowered her voice as the teacher walked past. “And Pierce. That's all I got before the teacher split them up for talking in class.” She added with a shrug. “If I had to take an educated guess then I would say he's involved Bucky somehow.” 

“For sure.” Steve replied with a nod. He could feel anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peggy deftly reach into her backpack and pull out her cell phone, subtly sending a text message under the table, out of the prowling teacher's eyesight. When she was done and her cell phone was safely stowed away, Steve looked at her questioningly.   
“If something big is going on in this school, you can bet Angie has heard something.” She explained. 

~*~

“You trying to back out Barnes?” Rumlow asked angrily. The pair were sitting in Rumlow's beat up car in the student's parking lot. Bucky had skipped his language class to meet him so they could go over the plan one last time.   
“No...” Bucky replied doubtfully although, he supposed he was. He'd barely slept and everything in his head was telling him that this plan was a bad idea. Not only would it mean coming face to face with Pierce, it was also dangerous.   
“Good.” Rumlow cut him off before he could continue. “So, he leaves straight after his last class. We follow him back to his place and then we confront him. I'll beat the shit out of him and then once he's unconscious, we burn that place to the ground.” He added with a twisted grin.   
“Brock I...”

“Don't fucking give me that look Barnes. You know that ass hole's got it coming. He killed my brother, almost killed you and he's probably after that dorky best friend of yours. If you back out now you're pretty much saying that my brother and your friend don't matter.” Rumlow replied with a shrug. “So you wanna back out? Get the fuck outta my car.” 

“I don't want to back out.” Bucky replied, although he did. Very much so but Rumlow was right. What if Pierce went after Steve next? He'd never be able to live with himself. “I guess I'm just worried somethin's gonna go wrong.” 

“No worries Barnes. I've been planning this for ages. That fucker isn't going to know what's hit him. Trust me.” 

Bucky wasn't sure if he did.

~*~

“Hey Steven.”   
Steve looked up from his history book to see Mr Banner standing over him. Once again Bucky hadn't shown up for their library study session and knowing that something was going on with him and Rumlow and some sort of revenge act on Pierce, it made Steve worry all the more.   
“Hey Mr Banner.” Steve replied, forcing himself to smile. He resisted the urge to check his phone again. He was waiting to hear back from Peggy to see if Angie had heard anything. 

“How are you doing today?” Mr Banner asked, perching himself on the edge of the table. “You looked worried.” He added, tilting his head to one side, an obvious invite for Steve to share what was on his mind. When Steve didn't volunteer any information, he continued. “Concerned about James?” 

“Yeah.” Steve admitted because that definitely wasn't lying. That was pretty much his baseline these days. “We made up though.” 

“Excellent! I knew you would.” Mr Banner replied with a smile. “Although I gather there's something else on your mind?”   
Steve sighed heavily. He didn't want to risk Bucky getting into trouble unnecessarily especially considering that he wasn't even certain that Bucky was involved. It was just very likely. Was that enough to voice his concerns?   
“What would you do if you knew someone was probably going to do something stupid but you're not sure what that stupid thing is?” He asked, hoping to get some insight into the problem, even if he couldn't use names. 

“Well,” Mr Banner considered for a moment. “I suppose it would depend on the gravity of the situation. If you had an inkling that the stupid thing would cause someone injury or would perhaps have the potential to result in a loss of life then I would tell someone who can do something about it.” 

“But how can I do that when I don't know what the stupid thing is?” Steve questioned. “I just have this feeling that Bu- that this person is going to do a stupid thing.” 

“Then I would tell someone that the person is at risk.” Mr Banner replied. If he picked up on Steve's slip of the tongue, he didn't comment on it. “Perhaps that person's father?” He suggested. “That way, he can keep an eye on that person and make sure they don't do the stupid thing.” 

“I guess.” Steve fingered his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans. What Mr Banner was saying made sense but what exactly would he tell Mr Barnes? A hand on his shoulder caused him to look back up.  
“Is this person at risk right now?” Mr Banner asked gently. “If so, I think you should tell me. I'm here to help.”   
Steve open his mouth and found himself beginning to explain.

~*~

“See, I told you.” Rumlow said smugly as they watched Pierce marching to his car. As soon as the bell for the end of last period had sounded, Rumlow had driven out of the student car park and moved into the staff car park. He already knew which car was Pierce's and they'd parked a safe distance away to ensure they wouldn't be seen when he inevitably came out of the building. “Look at him, the smug fucker.” Brock spat as Pierce dumped his briefcase in the passenger seat before getting into his car. “Typical dick extension of a car too.” He added as Pierce started the engine of the gleaming red sports car with the personalised number plates reading “A1ex”. 

Bucky's heart thundered in his chest the entire time his eyes were on Pierce. He wondered how the man could strut around innocently, how he lived with the knowledge that he'd ruined the lives of at least two people. Looking at the old man's leathery hand as it clamped down on the car door handle made the bile rise into Bucky's throat. He could still feel that touch on his shoulder and no amount of scrubbing in the bath or shower ever seemed to get rid of the ghostly imprint that seemed branded on him. 

They waited a few seconds after Pierce pulled out of the car park before Rumlow pulled out too. He'd explained to Bucky that he wasn't overly bothered about tailing him directly as he knew that Pierce would be heading straight home and, of course, Rumlow knew where that home was.   
“You're gonna get yours you sick twisted bastard.” Rumlow growled to himself. Bucky stared ahead, not daring to look at him. All of sudden, this revenge plan, this crazy, dangerous revenge plan was becoming all too real.

~*~

“I'm sorry Sir, I really need to look at this.” Steve said apologetically as his phone trilled in his pocket. The bell for last period had rung a few moments ago but Steve had opted to stay behind to talk to Mr Banner who'd moved them to the safety of his small, chaotic office. He looked up at Mr Banner who nodded in confirmation. Steve unlocked his phone and saw a message from Peggy.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you. Finally spoke to Angie. She says she saw Brock this morning on her way to school. He was coming out of the hardware store with a large container of lighter fluid and some rope. Surely Bucky wouldn't be that stupid?!?

“Fuck!” Steve cursed involuntarily and then instantly looked at Mr Banner apologetically. “That revenge plan I told you about? I know what it is.”

~*~

“Give him a minute or two to get settled and we'll go in.” Rumlow said confidently. Just a few moments earlier, they'd arrived on Pierce's street and watched him enter his house. Rumlow had parked a few metres away and was practically rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Bucky gripped his cell phone in the fist that was currently hidden in his left pocket. Everything was screaming at him that this was wrong. They were two kids, Pierce was a grown adult. Sure Brock was known for his fighting skills in the school yard but that didn't mean he could overpower an adult. What if, by entering his house, they offering themselves to Pierce like lambs to the slaughter? It made Bucky sick to think about it. He jumped as he felt the phone vibrate but he didn't dare pull it out to see who was calling. He knew that if he did, he was bound to blurt out what was happening and beg them to rescue him. 

Before he could open his mouth to try and get Rumlow to change his mind, the other boy had already gotten out of the car. He went to the trunk and Bucky watched through the rear window as Rumlow opened it and pulled out a large backpack that, according to Rumlow, contained everything they'd need to carry out his plan. On shaky legs, Bucky got out of the car, pulling up the hood of his black hoodie. Rumlow had insisted on them wearing all black so they would be harder to identify if someone was to see them. Bucky had asked him about the chances of someone recognising the car but Rumlow had simply told him to 'shut the fuck up'. 

Without warning, he vomited into his mouth as they approached Pierce's house. Not wanting Brock to know, he swallowed it grimly. In seconds they would be inside and there would be no turning back.

~*~

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention Mr Barnes.” Detective Sitwell said as he patted the file folder containing George's evidence. Stern had apparently been 'too busy' to take a look so George had had to settle for Sitwell.   
“Is that your way of admitting you were wrong?” George replied cagily. Peter had done an excellent job of collating their gathered evidence, cutting it down and making sure it only contained the pertinent parts, including Professor Pierce's death, Johann Schmidt's name change, the identity theft and a copy of the warrant for Schmidt's arrest. 

“Well, yes.” Sitwell answered, looking a little shamefaced. “Please accept our apologies.”

“For traumatising my son further?” George snarled. “Just make sure that bastard is sent back to Germany and put away for a very long time.” 

“We'll certainly be liaising with the German authorities to get his extradition moving forward.” Sitwell said. “Once again, thank you for bringing this to our attention, we'll make the moves to have him brought to the station and, of course, we'll keep you abreast of the developments in the case.” 

“Well I can at least thank you for that.” George said with a nod. He was about to leave when his phone began to ring. He saw Steve's name flash up on the screen and answered it straight away.  
“Mr Barnes, I'm sorry to call you Mr Banner told me to call the police first but I wanted to tell you first Mr Banner's driving right now and we're going straight there so I'll call the police after but I figured you needed to know too.” Steve gabbled hurriedly. 

“Steve, Steve, calm down.” George replied, suddenly feeling sick. “What's going on?”

“I think Bucky's gone to Pierce's house with Rumlow and they're going to do something stupid. We're going there now to try and stop him-”

“Don't worry about calling the police Steve. I'm at the station right now.” George hung up. Sitwell was looking at him curiously. “You need to come with me. NOW!”   
“I'm sorry?” Sitwell looked confused. 

“My son is going to that bastard's house RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” 

~*~

“You sick fucking ass hole!” Rumlow shouted as soon as Pierce opened the door. He pushed the older man with both hands. Pierce was so taken aback that he didn't have time to react, falling backwards at the sudden attack. Rumlow was on him straight away, kicking him hard with the combat boots he'd worn especially for the occasion. “You deserve to die you fucking piece of shit!” 

“What...what is the meaning of this?” Pierce demanded breathlessly as he curled up on his side to protect himself from Rumlow's kicks.   
“You're a sick fucking ass hole that's what!” Rumlow yelled angrily. Bucky hung back, trying his hardest not to vomit. Pierce's house looked so normal. How could it possibly be the home of a monster? His mind was tripping over itself trying to work it out. Perhaps it wasn't Pierce that was the monster. Perhaps it was him? 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Pierce's crumpled form as Brock rained down further kicks and punches. He was getting angrier and more wild, his movements becoming less co-ordinated as he took out his rage and pain on the man laying on the red carpet. Bucky stared at the colour, noting it was the same red as the blood that he been left behind on the tiled shower floor. He started to tremble. He was unable to call out when Rumlow's aim became so sloppy that he missed a punch and staggered slightly, giving Pierce an edge. Quick as a whip, Pierce brought up his own fist and landed it squarely in Rumlow's groin area. 

Rumlow let out a cry of pain and collapsed to the carpet. Pierce grinned triumphantly, wiping his bloody nose on the sleeve of his suit jacket.   
“James. I didn't notice you standing there.” He said silkily as Rumlow groaned in pain at his feet. “How nice of you to come and see me even if you did bring your rather...excitable friend.” He kicked Rumlow hard with one highly polished shoe. “Silly boy.” He said disgustedly, looking down at Rumlow's curled up form for a moment before focusing back on Bucky. “How about we deal with him and then we have some fun?” 

Bucky backed into the corner, unable to scream. 

~*~

“This was a terrible idea.” Mr Banner admonished himself as he drove through the streets towards Pierce's street. “And I certainly shouldn't have brought you with me.” He added, looking at Steve. 

“And what? Leave me to sit at home and wait to find out if my best friend is alright? Hell no.” Steve replied, dispensing with his usual politeness when it came to teachers. The situation was way beyond that.   
“You said Mr Barnes was at the police station?” Mr Banner asked. “We should wait for them to arrive.” 

“I'll get out of the car and take a cab then.” Steve replied stubbornly. “I'm not leaving Bucky and we're gonna get there before the police do. We gotta save him!” 

“Mr Stan is right.” Mr Banner muttered. “You are stubborn. You're also going to get me fired for driving you to what is probably going to be a hostage situation.” He added, shaking his head.

~*~

Pierce locked the front door with that horrible shark-like grin as Bucky stood there, total helpless. Rumlow was still subdued on the floor in the hallway, secured with the rope that Pierce found in his backpack.   
“What a silly boy.” Pierce replied. “Well James, since it's just you and me, how about we go somewhere more comfortable?”   
It wasn't an invite. Pierce advanced on him and Bucky pressed his back into the wall, trying to make himself disappear. He was aware of approaching footsteps behind him but he didn't dare tear his eyes away from Pierce. The man's left hand wrapped around his wrist and squeezed painfully.   
“We've got all night.” He continued. Bucky felt rooted to the spot. He willed his body to comply with him, to cry out, to scream, to attack, anything! Pierce was leaning in closer so Bucky could smell his horrible coffee breath. 

It seemed to happen in a split second. One moment Pierce was in his face, trying to kiss him then two blurs suddenly kicked in the front door and Pierce was suddenly on his stomach on the carpet beside Rumlow. Bucky recognised Detective Sitwell from his interview at the police station. He was aiming a gun at Pierce's head as the second blur, another police officer, hauled Pierce's arms behind his back to cuff his wrists together. Bucky stayed cemented in his corner, trembling and trying not to hyperventilate. Detective Sitwell approached him and placed a hand on his his shoulder. 

It was then that Bucky found his voice. He threw his head back and started to scream. He was aware of Sitwell speaking, probably trying to calm him down, but he didn't listen. There was another angry voice that appeared to be arguing with Sitwell before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him close. Through his panic, he recognised that smell. It was safety, it was home, it was his father. Bucky collapsed against his father's chest and his screams ebbed away, turning into sobs. The arms wrapped around him tighter still and his father's voice broke through his panicked brain, whispering comforting phrases over and over again.   
“You're safe now Baby, you're safe, he's never going to hurt you again.” 

~*~

George hustled his son out of Pierce's house as soon as he felt the boy wouldn't collapse under him. He wiped his face with a tissue and tilted Bucky's chin upwards so his son was forced to look at him.  
“I need to know baby, did he hurt you again?” George asked seriously, praying with everything that he had that the answer would be in the negative. Bucky shook his head fervently and George felt some of the tightness in his chest release.   
“Brock!” Bucky shouted suddenly, twisting in his father's grip and trying to run back into the house. George kept hold of him as Detective Sitwell lead a released Brock out of the house by his shoulders. Brock's head was bowed, his face swollen from Pierce's blows but Bucky could still see the tears running down his cheeks. Brock was led to Sitwell's car and helped into the back seat. “He's not in trouble is he?” Bucky turned back around to ask his father. “He didn't do anything wrong!” He protested. 

“Easy Son.” George stroked Bucky's cheek to calm him. “He's not in any trouble, they're just going to take him to the hospital and make sure someone's there to pick him up.” 

Bucky nodded and watched wordlessly as a police van suddenly drew up to the house. Three police officers exited the vehicle and rushed into Pierce's house. Seconds later, Pierce himself was frog-marched out of the house, his hands cuffed behind his back. Bucky felt himself be pulled into his father's chest. “Don't even look baby.” His father whispered gently. 

George watched with narrowed eyes as Pierce was taken to the back of the police van and placed into the back. The back doors slammed and the officers climbed back into the van before it tore away from the house and down the street. The police officer that had entered the house with Sitwell was with Brock at the car now and Sitwell spoke to him for a moment or two before he approached George and Bucky.  
“James,” Sitwell said gently, a far cry from the harsh tone he'd used in the interview room. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”  
Bucky shook his head against his father's chest. He didn't want to be away from his father for the foreseeable future.   
“Ok,” Sitwell replied. He turned his attentions to George. “Well, given the circumstances, we won't require a statement from James. I would advise you take him to the hospital at some point, just to be sure. Please accept my sincere apologies and if you need to, we can put you in contact with the victim liaison team if James needs to talk.” 

“We're getting him help.” George replied. “I'll make sure of that.”

“BUCKY!”   
There was a shout from behind them. Bucky peeked out from his father's hold to see Steve charging towards him. Mr Banner was standing on the pavement looking bemused and relieved. 

Seconds later, a second pair of much skinnier arms wrapped around him and Bucky suddenly found himself sandwiched between his father and his best friend. 

~*~

Two Weeks Later

“Sorry sorry sorry!”   
Bucky frowned as the young man rushed up to him. His first therapy session had been due to start ten minutes ago and by the apologetic nature of this guy, Bucky had to assume this was his therapist.   
“I lost my car keys and then my dog was being an ass hole and- fuck!” The guy cursed as he dropped the folder he was trying to juggle with the large coffee whilst simultaneously trying to unlock the office door. “Oh thanks!” He replied when Bucky picked it up for him. “Oh crap, I swore didn't I? They told me not to swear in front of patients! Shit! I mean...sugar!” The man continued as he unlocked the door and entered the room, beckoning with his head for Bucky to follow. 

Bucky did, feeling utterly bemused. He'd been nervous about his first appointment but this guy was completely the opposite of what he'd expected. He'd imagined the whole couch thing, with some professor with a serious expression and glasses scribbling down notes on a large pad. This guy seemed more like an older student than some stuffy therapist. 

His office wasn't anything like he'd imagined either. There was no long couch, no bookshelves lined with hefty tomes covered in red, green and blue leather. It was tiny and gloriously cluttered.   
“Sit down, sit down.” The guy urged him, waving his hand towards a battered old wooden chair. “Just move that sh-stuff of it.”   
Bucky nodded and removed a stack of papers off the chair before taking a seat. He watched as the guy negotiated through the general junk that littered the office floor before sitting down at his desk. “Right ok, where shall we start? Oh yeah, I should probably tell you my name! It's Scott, Scott Lang! Nice to meet you.” He looked down at his papers. “James?”

“Bucky.” Bucky corrected. 

“Great. Sure. I'll make a note.” Scott scribbled something down on the piece of paper. “Ok so I think we should start with you giving me a little background on what happened to you. Remember, I'm here to help you and I'm not going to judge you at all. You're in control of these sessions, I'm just here to guide you.” 

Bucky opened his mouth and started to talk. 

~*~

An hour later and Bucky was walking out of the building. He grinned when he saw his father waiting in the car with a hopeful looking Steve in the back seat. He ran over to them and got into the back beside his friend.   
“So, how'd it go Son?” George asked, turning around in his seat. 

“Good.” Bucky replied. “I think I'm gonna like talking to him.” 

“Great! Well, why don't we celebrate the first step in your journey to recovery? How does ice cream sound?”   
Bucky grinned again, joining in Steve in a cheer of agreement. He had a long, hard road ahead of him and he was under no illusions that it would be a straight line. But, with the help of his father, Steve and now Scott, Bucky knew he would get there eventually. 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd like to thank every single person who read this fic, left comments and kudos and remained patient during my spotty updating! It means a lot to me and I'm grateful for you all taking the time to read my writing!
> 
> As always, please feel free to follow or message me on my tumblr!
> 
> http://mr-barnes-if-ya-nasty.tumblr.com/


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